


Set the Fractured Bone

by charlottelennox



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Like really slow, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Sex, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Step-siblings, Thor Has Issues, Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator, additional tags to be added later, as the story progresses, technically, the author has plans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottelennox/pseuds/charlottelennox
Summary: They don’t talk anymore. They don’t stay up late, playing video games and watching stupid YouTube videos, laughing until their sides hurt. They don’t go to the same parties or go into town together or do basically anything that would hint that they’re so much more than strangers.Mostly, they just ignore each other. Not only does it hurt, but it also makes things very uncomfortable in a dorm room roughly the size of a shoebox.Loki and Thor, stepbrothers and best friends, are starting their freshman year of college. They'd planned to share everything, including a dorm room. However, over the summer, they'd given in to the attraction between them in an impulsive, regrettable one night stand. Everything fell apart after that, and Loki and Thor are no longer speaking. Unfortunately, they can't avoid one another, since they're still rooming together and very much entangled in one another's lives.





	1. your name is the splinter inside me.

**Author's Note:**

> The unrelenting power of my Thorki feels compelled me to write this. 
> 
> Title comes from the poem "Love Is Not All" by Edna St. Vincent Millay
> 
> “Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,  
> Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;  
> Yet many a man is making friends with death  
> Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 lyrics from "Winter" by Joshua Radin.

 

When Thor slams into the room, Loki jumps, his heart leaping into his throat. Thor always moves like a goddamn Mack truck, slamming into everything and everyone, oblivious of all the space he takes up. After eleven years of living with him, Loki still isn’t used to it.

“God,” he says, scowling, as Thor kicks off his sneakers and lets them thud loudly against the floor, “other people live here, you know.”

Thor blinks at him, clueless. He’s already pulling off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, revealing the golden, flat plane of muscles underneath. Loki averts his gaze. He’s laying on his bed with his physics textbook; in theory, he’s studying for his midterm. In practice, he’s been staring at the same page for at least twenty minutes.

“What?” Thor says, once the shirt is off. He tosses it into the laundry basket in the corner and tugs at the waistband of his gym shorts. “What did I do to you this time?“

Loki keeps his eyes trained on his textbook as he gestures with one hand toward the door. “The way you just barrel in here like you own the place. You’re so _loud._ ”

Thor huffs, balling up the gym shorts and tossing those into the laundry, too. “Okay, well, sorry for _existing,_ I guess?” He strips off his boxer shorts and his socks and now he’s completely naked and Loki stares so hard at his textbook that the words swim in front of his eyes. He can feel the tension in his shoulders, a warm flush rushing to his cheeks.

“Just … if you could exist more _quietly_ , that’d be great,” he says, and highlights a random passage in the book.

“Whatever,” Thor mutters. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki sees Thor shrug into a bathrobe and begin collecting his shower caddy. He tosses a towel over his shoulder and, without another word, slams back out of the room, presumably to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Loki waits several minutes. His heart is still skipping too quickly and he rolls over onto his back, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

After three months, it’s still very goddamn weird.

He closes his eyes and swallows against the sudden tightening in his throat. It hasn’t always been like this. It’s _never_ been like this. He and Thor move around each other awkwardly, tentatively; the foundation of their relationship has cracked right down the middle, and Thor and Loki are on opposite sides of the crevasse left behind. Neither is willing to step too far, lest they tumble and fall into the empty space below.

They don’t talk anymore. They don’t stay up late, playing video games and watching stupid YouTube videos, laughing until their sides hurt. They don’t go to the same parties or go into town together or do basically anything that would hint that they’re so much more than strangers.

Mostly, they just ignore each other. Not only does it hurt, but it also makes things _very_ uncomfortable in a dorm room roughly the size of a shoebox.

Next to him on the bed, Loki’s phone buzzes. Loki glances at it to see a message from Tony pop up on the screen. _Headed to dinner, wanna join?_

Loki looks at the time. It’s nearly six o’clock, peak time for dinner, which means that the dining hall will be crowded and hot and loud as hundreds of students cram themselves into too small of a space. Loki hates eating in the dining hall during peak times, but it’s better than staying suffocated in this room, both dreading and craving Thor’s return.

So pathetic, Loki thinks, and picks up his phone. _Sure. Meet in 10?_

Tony sends back a thumbs up emoji. Loki slams his physics book closed and gets to his feet. He digs his boots out from underneath the bed, where they’ve somehow ended up between the time he came in from his last class and now. In addition to his coat, he winds a dark green scarf around his neck. His mother had knitted it for him last Christmas. It’s only October, but it’s been a cold autumn and Loki is always freezing.

He’s just stuffing his phone in his pocket when the door swings open again. Thor is now wearing only his towel around his waist, low on his hips, carrying his robe. Little droplets of water drip from his hair onto his bare shoulders, and Loki feels his pulse speed up. Goddamn it. Why does Thor have to _look_ like that?

“Heading out?” Thor asks.

 _Like you care._ “Dinner,” Loki mumbles. “See you later.”

“Right.” Thor steps aside to let Loki pass through the door. If his gaze lingers, Loki is too busy averting his own to notice. “See you.”

* * *

They’ve been best friends for as long as they can remember, and brothers almost as long as that. Thor and Loki had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten, when golden, sunny Thor wandered over to where Loki sat by himself during recess and asked if he wanted to play.

They were never without one another; they played together during recess, they drew together during art lessons, they studied together for spelling tests. Their friendship meant that Loki’s mother and Thor’s father got to know one another very well. Playdates turned into group outings, which turned into Frigga and Odin dating until, finally, they married. Thor and Loki were seven years old.

It was almost too good to be true. Suddenly, they were best friends _and_ brothers. It was like winning the goddamn lottery. Never had Loki been so thrilled than the day he learned that Thor was going to be his brother, that they would all live together and be a family together.

Loki knows by now that good things never last.

Loki jams his hands in his pockets as he walks to the dining hall. He’s glad he thought to wear his scarf; the wind is whipping around him, making him shiver and hunch his shoulders. His dorm room isn’t far from the dining hall, but the cold makes the walk seem much longer. Loki is relieved when he reaches the entrance and finds Tony off to the side, finishing off a cigarette.

“‘Bout time,” Tony says, grounding out the cigarette. He flashes Loki a grin. “Been freezing my ass off.”

“What, for the entire three minutes you’ve been waiting?” Loki returns.

“Hey, this body was made for many things, but New England winters isn’t one of them.” Tony grabs the door and swings it open, gesticulating widely. “After you.”

“It’s not even winter yet,” Loki points out as he ducks through the door, Tony close on his heels.

“It’s close enough,” Tony says. He pulls off the beanie cap he’s wearing and ruffles his short, dark hair. “I’m delicate, you know?”

Loki snorts. Tony is a junior from southern California and his favorite hobby - after drinking and wild parties - is complaining about how much he hates the cold winters. They’d met at the beginning of the year in physics class, and though Loki doesn’t normally make friends very easily (or at all), he’d felt comfortable with Tony right away. There’s something about Tony that puts most people at ease.

They join the line of students waiting to swipe their meal cards, and then head into the dining hall. Just as Loki had suspected, it’s nearly full, practically every table already taken up by a group or two of kids who feel the need to shout at one another across the wide expanse of four inches of table. It makes Loki’s skin crawl with irritation. He _hates_ crowds.

Tony, on the other hand, loves them. He loves being the center of attention and as they make their way through the line, they get stopped several times by people saying hi to Tony. Loki shuffles along behind him, keeping his gaze low as he chooses tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Tony, who has two cheeseburgers and a huge serving of fries on his tray, leads them toward a table already crowded with Tony’s usual group.

“Scoot over,” Tony demands, dropping his tray on the table. “Make room for two.”

Rhodey looks up and makes a show of rolling his eyes. “No manners at all, this one,” Rhodey says disapprovingly, even as he adjusts his chair to free up extra space for Tony and Loki. “Tell me why I put up with him,” Rhodey adds, to the table at large.

“ ‘Cause he gets us into the best parties,” says Bucky, around a mouthful of cheeseburger.

Next to him, Natasha makes a disgusted sound. “Ugh, would it kill you to swallow first?” she asks, slapping Bucky’s bicep.

“Hey, I’ve got no problems with swallowing,” Bucky retorts with a grin.

Loki is pretty sure Steve blushes at that. They’re kind of a thing, Steve and Bucky. It seems like everyone knows this _except_ Steve and Bucky.

Natasha just throws a ketchup packet at Bucky. “Perv.”

Loki rolls his eyes, but he can’t help a flicker of amusement. Despite his aversion to crowds and socializing in general, he does kind of get a kick out of Tony’s friends. They’re all upperclassmen, and have known one another since their freshman year.

They aren’t exactly Loki’s friends. Loki knows that if it wasn’t for Tony, none of them would look twice at him, but at least they aren’t mean about it.

“Wait, who’s swallowing whose what?” Tony had been distracted as they sat, furiously tapping out a text message to someone, but his attention returned to the table just in time to hear Bucky and Natasha’s remarks.

“No one’s swallowing anything,” Natasha says, and rolls her eyes. “That we need to know about, anyway.”

“Shame,” says Tony, clicking his tongue. “I wouldn’t mind getting in on some of this swallowing action. Oh, that reminds me! I heard there’s gonna be a rager at the lacrosse house this weekend. Who’s in?”

“How does _swallowing_ remind you of the lacrosse house?” That question comes from Steve, who’s still avoiding looking directly at Bucky. He takes a big bite of his grilled cheese sandwich.

Tony smirks. “Because those lacrosse boys can _swallow_ , my friend.”

If possible, Steve looks even more embarrassed.

“Don’t tell me you’ve personally had every lacrosse player suck your dick,” Rhodey says, though he doesn’t sound entirely surprised at the prospect. Just weary.

“Not _every_ lacrosse player,” Tony concedes. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. So, who’s in? We can pre-game at my place, blow off some steam. It’ll be fun. Loki?”

If Tony didn’t make the effort to include him in the conversation, Loki is pretty sure none of them would even remember he existed. He shrugs as he feels everyone look at him. “I don’t have anything better to do,” he admits, and immediately wants to take the words back. He might as well go around with a big neon sign over his head that says LOSER. “I mean, it’d get me out of the dorm, at any rate.”

Natasha gives him a sympathetic look. She’s the most friendly to him out of the group. “Still haven’t kissed and made up with your brother, huh?”

A flush crawls up Loki’s neck at her choice of words. He shakes his head. Obviously, he hasn’t told them - hasn’t told anyone - _why_ he and Thor don’t speak anymore. It had just slipped out one night, early in the year, when they were all hanging out at Tony’s - that Loki was stuck rooming with his _step-_ brother, with whom he’d had a falling out over the summer. That much is true.

It’s also true that by the time all of it happened, it had been too late to request a room change (like Thor wanted to) or to switch universities all together (like Loki wanted to). Thor and Loki are stuck together, for better or for worse.

And it is definitely _worse_ lately. Loki’s mind’s-eye flashes to Thor, standing in the doorway, clad in only a towel. The flush rises higher, burning his cheeks.

“No,” he says aloud, managing to sound unaffected. “It’s still fucked.”

“Sounds like a party’s just what you need, then,” Bucky offers. To Tony, he adds, “I’m in, too. _Definitely_ need to blow off some steam this weekend.”

“Tough week?” asks Loki, more than ready to shift the attention away from himself.

“Tough semester,” Bucky admits with a grimace. “My calculus class is kicking my ass. I’m pretty sure I failed the midterm.”

“That’s what you get for staying up all night marathoning Marie Kondo instead of studying,” Steve admonishes.

“Hey. What happens in the dorm room _stays_ in the dorm room,” Bucky retorts.

Tony ignores them and nudges Rhodey’s shoulder. “How about it?” he asks.

“Yeah, why not?” Rhodey agrees easily. “Nat? You gonna join?”

“Why not?” she echoes. “I’ll ask Carol and Wanda, too. Tony, is the pre-gaming BYOB?”

“Natasha,” Tony scolds. “You know me better than that.” One of the nice things about Tony is not that he’s disgustingly rich, it’s that no one would ever know it were it not for Tony’s seemingly unending generosity. Whenever he hosted anything at his apartment, he provided all of the alcohol and food and never asked for anything but a good time in return.

“Just checking,” Natasha says lightly. They appreciate Tony’s generosity, but they don’t want to take it for granted. Tony appreciates this, Loki can tell.

The conversation shifts from the party to their general weekend plans, to the midterms they’d just finished, to movies. Loki stops listening. He eats his grilled cheese sandwich and most of his tomato soup and is considering going back for some french fries when he spots Thor walking through the dining hall entrance.

It’s still a jolt, every time Loki sees Thor unexpectedly. It’s like electricity shooting from the base of his spine up to the pulse points behind his ears. His whole _body_ feels it.

And it isn’t _fair._ Loki feels completely dismantled every time he looks at Thor, but Thor floats effortlessly along like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He’s walking with his friends Sif and Fandral, laughing, and Loki feels something hot like fury twist in his gut.

He hates Thor.

He loves Thor.

Fuck.

Abruptly, Loki gets to his feet. “I gotta go,” he says, cutting off Rhodey in the middle of a sentence. He knows he’s being rude, but he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. “I’ll see you guys later,” he adds.

“You okay?” Tony calls after him, but Loki simply grabs his tray and tosses it into the dumpster before fleeing.

Thor never even glances his way.

* * *

It had happened over the Fourth of July weekend, although if Loki is being honest with himself, it had been building for far longer than that.

He remembers the lingering glances between himself and Thor. They’d both sneak looks when they thought the other wasn’t looking. The way Thor _smiled_ at him, God.

Thor’s touch _did things_ to Loki. Even the tiniest brush of their fingers together felt like sparklers going off in his veins. Loki’s heart aches to think of it.  

They’ve always been so close. Best friends, brothers. It’s more than that. Loki doesn’t believe in soulmates, but if he did, he’d feel that Thor is his. They knew one another inside out. Sure, they fought sometimes, like everyone, but they were quick to forgive and forget, smooth it over like it never happened.

Loki doesn’t know when it turned into something more. Maybe it had always been there, lingering under the surface, this _longing_ for Thor. This attraction to him, this need to be with him all the time. Thor is so goddamn beautiful, but it isn’t about that. It isn’t _just_ about that, anyway.

It’s not something Loki can explain. He just knows he feels it, so deeply that it’s woven itself into his bones and become a part of who he is.

And for awhile, Thor had felt it, too. Really _felt_ it, the way Loki did. Loki remembers the way Thor had kissed him, so tenderly, like Loki was a delicate thing Thor treasured. He remembers the way Thor’s blue eyes flashed with love and lust all tangled together. And the way their bodies had moved together - awkwardly, clumsy at first, until they’d found a rhythm and then it was _perfect,_ everything Loki had ever dreamed of.

The Fourth of July. Loki shivers, remembering.

* * *

It’s completely dark outside as Loki walks back to his dorm room. The good thing is that he knows for a fact Thor won’t be there. He wants nothing more than to collapse into bed and bury himself under the blankets, curling up with his own misery, which is easier to do when he’s alone.

He’s barely gotten in the door of his room when his phone buzzes. Loki kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his coat and scarf before he pulls the phone out.

 _You left fast,_ Tony says. _Everything OK?_

Despite himself, Loki smiles a little. Tony is a good friend. Loki will never know why Tony had chosen to befriend him, but he’s glad of it all the same.

He’s tempted to say that everything is fine, just tired, same old shit. Instead, Loki admits, _Saw Thor come in. :/_

Loki shoves aside the physics textbook he’d left on his bed and flops down. His phone buzzes.

 _Shit,_ replies Tony. _You guys seriously not talking at all?_

 _Like five words a week, max,_ is Loki’s reply.

Tony sends a frowning emoji, followed by two drink glasses. _Got the perfect remedy,_ he says. _Wanna come over tonight?_

Loki chews on his lip, considering. On the one hand, it’s another excuse to get out of the dorm before Thor comes back from dinner. Evenings are the worst, when he and Thor are in their little shoebox room, each one ignoring the other, the tension so palpable it’s hard to breathe. Loki is pretty sure all of this is going to give him an ulcer before the semester is out.

On the other hand, he’s got class early in the morning and he _does_ need to finish his physics homework. He sighs. _Better not. Class in the AM._

_K. Text me if you change your mind. Steve and Nat are coming over._

Loki feels a brief twinge. _Maybe,_ he says. _I’ll text._

Tony sends a smiley and a heart emoji, and Loki shakes his head, setting the phone down. He gets his physics textbook and his laptop, opening up the latter so that he can turn on music, as if it would drown out the sensation of his stomach curling itself into knots. He tries to push everything else out of his mind, focusing only on his physics assignment.

 _Fake it till you make it,_ that’s what his mother always says. He’s damn sure going to try.

There’s no other choice.

* * *

Thor puts off returning to the dorm room for as long as possible. He’d seen Loki leave the dining hall just after Thor came in, which means that Loki will be there. Being in that room with Loki makes Thor feel like he has something hard and heavy pressing on his chest. Evenings are the worst, when neither of them have anywhere else to be.

He sits at his table in the dining hall, long after Sif and Fandral - along with most of the dinner crowd - have left. He nurses a cup of coffee (decaf) and browses his social media. Fandral had talked Thor into downloading Tinder, because Thor needs to, in Fandral’s words, “Get fucking laid already.”

Fandral doesn’t know about Loki. Nobody does. Fandral isn’t stupid either, though; he knows that Thor has been _off_ since the summer. He assumes Thor had some secret summer fling that broke his heart, and Thor doesn’t bother correcting him.

So he downloaded the hookup app and he gets a fair amount of matches, but he never talks to any of them, let alone meets them.

What’s the point?

There are several messages in his inbox, mostly from girls even though Thor’s profile specifically states he’s looking for women _and_ men. Men rarely message him, but women seem to flock to him in droves. Thor can only assume there’s something about him that men dislike. Maybe it’s his hair.

After leaving his messages unread, Thor mechanically goes through some of his matches. He presses the little heart button, liking them, without even really registering what they look like or what their names are. He does it so that he can show Fandral he’s trying. Fandral is a good friend, but he can be pushy and Thor just doesn’t feel like dealing with that.

When he’s had enough of Tinder, Thor closes the app and goes to Instagram. Immediately, he clicks on Loki’s profile. It’s the only social media that Loki bothers with. He always says that he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone else is doing, which is typical of Loki.

Thor understands it, but he’s still glad that Loki indulges in this one. Here on Instagram, Thor can get a look into Loki’s life without ever having to say a word to him.

Loki had unfriended him months ago, but his profile is still public. He hasn’t blocked Thor, either, which makes Thor wonder if Loki knows that he does this. That Thor checks Loki’s profile several times a day, studies his pictures with their cryptic captions, searches for anything that will give him a clue about what Loki’s thinking.

Because Loki is a closed book, so goddamn impenetrable. He always has been, but it’s never been Thor that he’s shut out before.

Thor had never realized just how cold Loki can be.

Loki hasn’t posted anything in a couple of days; Thor realizes that the most recent image is one he’s already seen. He clicks on it anyway. It’s a picture of a sidewalk covered with freshly fallen autumn leaves. The red, orange, and golden leaves crinkle and curl at the edges, already dying. There’s something wistfully idyllic about the image that makes Thor sad. Loki always did love fall.

There’s no caption, only a couple of leaf emojis. Several people had liked the picture, but there are no comments, either. There’s nothing else that would allow Thor in. Into Loki’s thoughts, into his _life_.

It feels so _wrong_ , to not know anything about what Loki’s thinking. For as long as Thor can remember, they’ve practically existed as the same person, sharing one heart beat. Loki told Thor everything, and vice versa.

Now, they might as well be complete strangers. Worse than strangers, because at least strangers are somewhat polite. Thor and Loki ignore one another with barely palpable hostility. And Thor hadn’t meant for it to turn out this way, he really hadn’t. If he had realized, he’d have …

What would he have done? What _could_ he have done? Chosen his words more carefully, probably. Dealt with it rationally instead of freaking out. Suggested therapy or something, because clearly they were both in over their heads.

Thor could have not fucked Loki in the first place.

Thor scrubs a hand over his face. He’s awful, he really is, because despite the absolute shit storm that had followed, Thor can’t bring himself to wish he could erase that particular mistake. They never should have crossed that line, but God, the memory of it still makes Thor feel like he’s swallowed fireworks and he can’t give up that feeling, he just _can’t._

They’re at a standstill. Loki won’t forgive Thor and Thor can’t ask for it, anyway, because he has nothing to give Loki anymore.

So, fuck it.

Thor closes out of the Instagram app and sticks his phone into his pocket. He vows not to look at it again.  

* * *

When he gets back to the dorm room, he sees that Loki is laying on his bed with his textbook. If Thor hadn’t known better, he’d think that Loki hadn’t moved an inch from where he lay when Thor came in from the gym. He’s added his laptop, though, and the music playing is soft and melodic, accompanying his studying.

Thor lingers in the doorway as he toes off his boots and shrugs out of his jacket. Loki has given no indication that he’s noticed Thor’s arrival.

Thor wants to say something. Ask him about his homework, maybe - lame, but it would get the conversation going. Ask him if he has plans this weekend.

Or he could go right for the jugular - _please, Loki, can we just talk?_ His throat aches to say the words.

“Could you maybe turn that down?” is what comes out when Thor opens his mouth. “Or use headphones.”

Loki looks up long enough to scowl. “I was here first.”

“We _both_ live here,” Thor points out. He drops his phone onto his desk, turning his back on Loki. “I can’t concentrate with the music on.”

Loki snorts, but doesn’t reply. Thor busies himself with grabbing his backpack from his bed so he can pull out his history notes. He pretends not to notice as Loki gets up, goes to his own desk, and fishes a pair of headphones from his top drawer.

“Happy?” Loki snaps when he flops back down on the bed.

 _Not even a little,_ Thor thinks. The music cuts off abruptly as Loki shoves the headphone jack into the computer. Thor allows himself to glance over his shoulder at Loki, once. Loki’s attention is already back on his textbook.

This is going to be such a long fucking semester.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real Thorki attempt, be gentle. Comments are my drug. Feel free to say hi/hang out with me on tumblr! @iamanartichoke. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. you treat me like a stranger and it feels so rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor continue to avoid each other. The lacrosse team throws a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: There is a homophobic slur in this chapter.**
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 2 lyrics from "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye.

 

****  


By the time Thor wakes up the next morning, Loki is gone. Thor is glad. He goes about his morning routine much more easily  when Loki has class and isn’t still in the room, either sleeping or sulking.

Thor goes through the motions of showering and dressing. He packs his bag with the books and notes he’ll need for classes. Today is Wednesday, and Wednesdays are his busiest day because not only does he have three day classes, one right after the other, but he also has soccer practice and then a biology class, which meets for three hours every Wednesday night.

He’d purposefully scheduled his classes so that he didn’t have to get up any earlier than ten, but Thor is beginning to regret that decision. At least it keeps him out of the dorm room, though.

Thor skips breakfast, heading straight to the main classroom building. He buys a large coffee from the little cafe on the main floor and then heads to his first class, which is history. On the way, he passes Loki on the stairs. Loki doesn’t look at him, so Thor doesn’t look, either. He keeps on his way as if his heart hadn’t leapt into his throat just at the sight of his dark-haired brother.

The day passes quickly. By the time Thor makes it to the locker room after soccer practice, his muscles burning, he’s got a headache and his stomach is rumbling.

“Hey,” he greets Fandral, who’s just stepped out of the shower and is wrapping a towel around his waist. “Feel like getting dinner?”

“Sure,” Fandral says. He opens his locker door to pull out his bag and then looks around it to grin at Thor. “By the way, I heard there’s a party this weekend. You wanna go?”

Thor shrugs, unlacing his cleats. “Maybe. Who’s throwing it?”

“The lacrosse team. They throw the best parties.”

Thor snorts and rolls his eyes. “How would _you_ know? We’re barely five weeks into college.”

Fandral makes a face at him. “I hear things.”

“Like what?”

“Like that it's at their off-campus house and the captain of the team is twenty-one, so there’ll be tons of booze and girls. And _guys_ ,” he adds, at Thor’s look. “Everything goes. And like you said, we’re five weeks into the year and there haven’t been any big parties yet. Everyone’s looking to get a little crazy.”

Thor rolls his eyes again, but he doesn’t respond right away. The lacrosse team is full of the kind of jocks that Thor dislikes: loud, cocky, arrogant tools who’ll fuck a guy in secret and call him a _fag_ the next day in front of everyone. Lacrosse is _the_ main sport at this school and Thor (who’s always been athletic but not a serious _athlete)_  had almost tried out for the team. He made it through two days of tryouts surrounded by those idiots before he took himself out of the running and joined the soccer team instead.

Still, a party is a party and Thor does need to blow off steam. He’s been spending far too much time inside of his own head, twisting himself inside out over Loki. He wants to just drink some beer, listen to music, and _relax_. It’ll get him out of the dorm and away from Loki completely. Loki wouldn’t be caught dead at a jock party.

Thor stands and pulls off his t-shirt before he speaks again. Fandral, by this point, is almost fully dressed. “Sure,” Thor says, giving a shrug. “You’re right, it could be fun.”

Fandral’s grin is wide. “Dude, it’s going to be _so much_ fun. We’ll get Hogun and Sif to come, too. Really make a night out of it. God, I love college.”

Despite himself, Thor laughs. Fandral’s enthusiasm is a little contagious. Thor has known Sif and Fandral for years - they’d all come from the same small town - and in all that time, Fandral has never changed. He probably never will. There’s something comforting in that, Thor thinks.

* * *

Thor is exhausted at the end of the day, but when Hogun sends a text inviting him over, Thor decides to go. If he stays out late enough, with any luck, Loki will be asleep  by the time he goes back and Thor won’t have to either argue with him or torture himself trying to work up the nerve to reconcile.

Hogun, Sif, Fandral, and Thor all live in the same co-ed building, just on different floors. Thor’s room is on the fourth floor and Hogun’s single is on the sixth. When Thor gets there, he sees that Sif and Volstagg, who is the RA on Hogun’s floor, are already there. They’re sitting in a circle on the floor, playing Uno.

“Thor!” Sif greets, when Thor lingers in the doorway and knocks on the open door to politely announce his arrival. “We’re playing drunk Uno, come join.”

Thor laughs as he steps inside the room, dropping his backpack on the floor. “Drunk Uno?”

“The guidelines are,” says Volstagg, “if you get hit with a plus two or four, you have to take a drink. If you throw down a reverse on someone, both of you have to take a drink. If you win, everyone drinks!”

“Aren’t there rules about this sort of thing?” Thor asks as they widen their circle on the floor so Thor can join it. “The beers, I mean.”

“Thor,” Sif complains, “are you _trying_ to be a spoilsport?”

“I don’t see any beers,” is Volstagg’s response as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

Hogun, who has been quiet up until this point, looks up to give Thor a raised eyebrow. “If he says he doesn’t see it, it doesn’t exist,” he explains. “So therefore, he’s not lying.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s faulty logic,” says Thor, reaching for a beer anyway. “But that’s none of my business.”

Sif grins at him and Thor can’t help but grin back. He watches as they finish their game and then they re-deal the cards so that Thor can join in. They spend a good two hours that way, playing cards and drinking beer, and Thor gets a little tipsy because Sif keeps hitting him with plus fours.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Thor complains. He’s down three bottles, has a comically large hand of cards, and his head feels fuzzy. “No way you’re just getting lucky.”

“Yes, Thor,” Sif agrees, setting a yellow card on the deck, “I am specifically controlling the deck with my magical powers so that I can not only get all the plus fours without anyone noticing, but use them to get you drunk.”

“Diabolical,” Thor responds, and Sif makes a face at him.

“The odds are just ever in her favor,” Volstagg says. He changes the color to blue and then Hogun tosses down a reverse, which means both Hogun and Volstagg have to take a drink.

“So where’s Fandral?” asks Thor, when it’s his turn again.

“I think he had a date or something,” Sif says with a shrug. “Or a hookup. He’s always on that stupid Tinder app. Speaking of which, have you met anyone yet, Thor?”

Thor shakes his head, suddenly sorry he’d opened his mouth. “No, but I’m not really looking,” he admits. “I just pretend so Fandral will stay off my back. Don’t say anything to him.”

“Texting him right now,” Volstagg jokes. “But seriously, why don’t you just tell him you’re not looking?”

Thor changes the color to green. “Because then he’d want to know _why,_ and telling him I’m just not interested right now isn’t good enough. He’s so pushy.”

“It’s only because he thinks you need to get over your summer fling,” Hogun offers. “Yeah, he’s pushy, but he has good intentions.”

“That’s true,” Sif agrees. She’s playing absently with the ends of her dark ponytail. “Are you ever going to tell us who it was, by the way?”

“I never even told you there was one in the first place,” Thor points out. “You all just _assumed._ ”

“Are we wrong?” asks Sif.

Thor presses his lips together and looks away. He wants to say that yes, they are very much wrong, because Loki wasn’t some meaningless _fling._ They weren’t goddamn Sandy and Danny, making out on the beach, their biggest challenge being going back to different schools in the fall.

Loki is his soulmate, and Thor fucking loves him.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hogun says. Thor realizes he’s been silent for several moments and they’re all looking at him with something akin to concern. Thor doesn’t know what his face has revealed, but he clears his throat and flashes an automatic smile. The charming smile that won over so many, the carefree smile that lit up his face and never quite reached his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he says, and turns his attention back to the game. “Red,” he adds, laying a card down on the deck.

* * *

The rest of the week trudges by. On Friday, Loki goes right to Tony’s apartment after classes instead of stopping off at the dorm first. Tony had extended the invitation for Loki (and anyone else) to crash at his place after the party, which means that Loki has no real intention of going back to his dorm until at least the next afternoon.

“Hey!” Tony greets cheerfully, swinging the door open widely just moments after Loki knocks. “Come on in. Can I get you a drink?”

Loki can’t help a smile as the door closes behind him. Tony loves playing host. His apartment isn’t a far walk from campus and, because the complex rents to a lot of students, it isn’t anything fancy. Tony has definitely made it his own, though. His decorating tastes are smooth and refined, like this apartment should belong to a thirty-something bachelor instead of a college kid. There’s even a fully stocked liquor cart near the archway that separates the living room from the kitchen, complete with an _ice bucket_ , Jesus.

No one could ever say Tony didn’t have class.

Setting his backpack down, Loki nods toward the glass tumbler Tony is holding. It’s filled nearly to the brim with amber liquid. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he says.

“Ooh, great. It’s a Stark Iced Tea,” Tony responds, leading Loki over to the cart. “My own recipe. It’s kind of like a Long Island Iced Tea, but stronger.”

“Aren’t Long Island Iced Teas already pretty strong?” Loki asks.

“Not strong _enough_ . I’ve added a few more special ingredients.” Tony winks and picks up a new tumbler. He tosses a couple of ice cubes in - he has _tongs_ \- and then proceeds to dump at least a dozen different liquors into the glass. Some of them go into the drink so quickly that Loki can’t read the names on the labels before Tony has moved on to the next bottle.

Well, Loki thinks, when Tony presents Loki with the finished product, it _is_ Friday, and the concoction isn’t going to kill him. Probably.

“Ta-da!” Tony picks up his own tumbler again and, automatically, they clink glasses. “Bottoms up!”

“Bottoms up,” Loki echoes. He takes a large swallow of the drink. Almost immediately, he wants to spit it back out again. He forces himself to swallow it and coughs as the drink burns its way down his throat and settles somewhere near the ulcer Loki is convinced is starting to form in his gut.

“Holy shit,” he says, when he catches his breath. His eyes are watering.

Tony laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Good, right?”

“It tastes like lighter fluid.”

Tony laughs again. “Yeah, but a few of them _will_ knock you on your ass, if that’s the goal for the night.”

Loki isn’t entirely sure that is his goal for the night, but all he does is point out, “It’s still only, like, four o’clock, you know.”

“Friday, Friday, everybody get down on Friday,” Tony sings as he adds a couple more ice cubes to his own drink. “Who cares what time it is? I’ve had a rough fucking week.” He tilts his head back and swallows more of his drink. “Ooh, that _does_ burn.”

Loki shakes his head and follows suit, forcing down another gulp of his own drink. They finish off their tumblers and Tony fixes each of them another before they go into the living room and drop down onto the couch.

“So, where’s everyone else?” Loki asks. He swings his feet onto the coffee table, trying to make himself comfortable. Already, his head feels a little fuzzy.

“Umm.” Tony checks his phone. “Steve’s got class until four thirty, I think, and he was going to go home and shower. He’ll probably bring Bucky with him. Back here, I mean, later, not to the shower. Although maybe that, too.”

Loki grins a little.

“Rhodey’ll be here in about half an hour, and I think Nat said she was gonna get ready with Carol and Wanda so they probably won’t come by until, like, eight. Nat says they’re forcing Carol to dress up. For her own good, apparently.”

“Mm.” Loki hums a little in acknowledgement. He’s met Carol and Wanda a couple of times, but they’re Natasha’s friends, not really part of Tony’s group. “Is this the kind of party where that matters? Like, should I have dressed up more?”

It’s insecurity, plain and simple. Loki likes to pretend he doesn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks, but he does. He’d chosen black jeans and a dark green button up shirt, going for the “trying, but not too hard” look. This is his first real party, although he’d rather slit his own wrists than come right out and admit that.

In high school, there had been parties, but Loki only went when Thor begged him. More often than not, Loki ended up heading home less than an hour after arriving. So they didn't really count.  Thor was the one who liked to go. Thor was popular and fun and everyone loved him. The few times Loki had accompanied him, he’d just felt awkward and out of place. He couldn’t just follow Thor around all night, but he didn’t really have any other friends to pass the time with. 

That, and it had always sparked something like anger, or maybe jealousy, when he watched the way their classmates draped themselves all over Thor - figuratively, although in some of the girls’ cases, literally - fawning over him like he was the second coming of Jesus or something. None of those people knew him the way that _Loki_ knew him. It was pathetic, how they vied for his attention like dogs lapping up scraps from the kitchen floor. _So_ pathetic.

So, no parties, then. He’d made a vow to himself to try harder in college, to be more social, especially since he’d lost Thor. No matter how much it hurt, that part of their lives - the part where they were best friends, knowing each other inside out - was over, and Loki needed to learn to stand on his own.

He doesn’t know what he would have done if Tony hadn’t befriended him, though. Probably forgotten about his vow the first week. The only other party he’d been to so far was the freshman social at the beginning of the year, which had been held from six to eight and mostly consisted of overly-enthusiastic RAs trying to get all of the awkward freshmen to mingle with one another. Loki had stayed for about half an hour before he couldn’t take it anymore.

“You look good,” Tony says, after giving Loki a once-over. “The outfit is good. What about your hair?”

Loki shrugs, self-consciously, tugging a bit at the ends. Both he and Thor have always liked to wear their hair long, brushing their collarbones, but while Thor’s hair is like spun fucking gold, all smooth and silky, Loki’s tends to wave and curl and do what it wants, regardless of Loki’s intentions.

“I thought about putting it up,” he says, “but, I don’t know, I didn’t want to show up with a _man-bun._ ” Thor makes man-buns look good; Loki just looks like a douche who’s trying too hard.

Tony reaches over, running his fingers through Loki’s curls. “I think that was a good call,” he decides, “but we should add a little product. You have amazing curls. We should make them _bounce._ ”

Loki feels himself flush at the contact. He normally doesn’t like to be touched, by anyone but Thor and sometimes his mother, but Tony’s touch feels friendly without being overbearing.

“My hair always loses the battle against humidity,” is what he says, when he finds his voice again. He takes a long swallow of his drink, because his cheeks still feel warm. What a stupid thing to say.

Tony, however, just laughs. He’s already pulled back and is pushing his hand through his own short hair. “Yeah. Mine gets like that, too, if I let it get too long. I wish I could pull off the long-haired thing like you do, but somehow, I always end up looking like a thirty year old pedo.”

Loki snorts a laugh at that. “What?”

“It’s true,” Tony nods. He rubs his fingers along his jaw. “Something about the way my hair grows doesn’t go with the facial hair. Looks creepy.”

“You could shave,” Loki points out, although Tony’s moustache and goatee are something like art, the way they’re perfectly shaped and trimmed.

“Nah. Easier to just keep it short.” Tony grins and downs the rest of his drink. “But, yeah. We’ll fix your hair a little before we go, maybe add some eyeliner, if you want.”

“Yeah, okay.” Loki’s smile is mostly hidden by the rim of his tumbler as he takes another sip.

* * *

They end up adding enough product to Loki’s hair that the frizz has entirely vanished and it curls at the bottom in a way that looks intentional rather than messy. Then, Tony carefully applies Loki’s eyeliner. He keeps it subtle, more like the _suggestion_ of eyeliner. “That,” Tony announces, “really makes the green in your eyes _pop._ ”

Tony applies his own eyeliner more heavily, dark and dramatic. When they’re finished, they take a few selfies together and Loki posts the best one on his Instagram page, captioned with nothing but a yellow heart emoji. He’s a little drunk by then and he feels kind of giddy, feels like he _belongs_ . He doesn’t need _Thor_ , who is probably too busy doing whatever he plans to do tonight to give Loki a second thought.

He says as much to Tony. “Who needs stupid brothers, anyway?” he asks.

“I’m blessed with being an only child,” Tony responds with an easy grin. “So, not me.”

“Not me, either,” Loki says firmly.

Predictably, it all goes downhill from there.

* * *

The more Loki drinks, the more determined his brain is to focus on Thor. All Loki can think about, as he leans against the living room wall at the lacrosse house, sipping his beer, is how Thor tasted like mint and cream cheese cupcake frosting. He tasted like the way the sunlight sparkled on the surface of a crystal clear lake - clean and shiny.

And the _way_ he kissed, God. He was so gentle about it, his hand cupping Loki’s neck as he parted his lips and dipped his tongue into Loki’s mouth. There was no way to describe the effect it had on Loki. His heart was in his throat and little chills ran over his body. He’d actually felt lightheaded.

Even when they’d both gotten caught up in it, and they were clinging to one another, licking into one another’s mouths, sharing the same panting breath - there was still a sweetness there that made Loki feel so cared about, so _loved._

How could Thor just take it all away? How could he kiss Loki like he loved him, how could he _fuck_ Loki like he loved him (and Loki can’t even _think_ about that part, or he’ll probably cry) and then say it meant nothing? That it had been a _mistake?_

Loki feels a sharp throb in his stomach and his eyes well up. He takes another sip of his beer, blinking rapidly, finishing off the bottle. It’s still early; he and Tony and the rest of them had only arrived maybe half an hour before, and not many people have arrived yet. Loki is trying to stick to beer because the two Stark Iced Teas he’d had at the apartment had made him firmly tipsy, and he wanted to linger there awhile before he proceeded to full on drunk.

In order to force his thoughts away from Thor, Loki focuses on observing the party around him. The house isn’t anything fancy, but it’s cozier than Loki would have expected, for being full of jocks. All soft furniture and muted blues and grays.

The most interesting thing is that there’s an elaborate chinchilla cage in the living room, filled with colorful toys and wheels and little sleeping hutches. A couple of people are peering in at the chinchilla(s?), sticking their fingers through the cage bars while a black chinchilla sniffs curiously at the tips.

Mostly, people are milling about, drinking. There’s music playing, a bit too loudly for Loki’s tastes, but it does set the party mood. A few guys are turning the dining room table into a beer pong table, setting up cups and filling them with generous amounts of beer.

So far, no one has noticed that Loki isn’t socializing much. He’d felt confident back at the apartment, with Tony, and he’d felt confident arriving in a group, but now the group has scattered and Loki doesn’t quite know what to do with himself - except, apparently, sulk over Thor. Bucky is with the beer pong guys, Steve and Natasha are sitting on the couch, talking, and Tony and Rhodey … disappeared somewhere, Loki doesn’t know where.

It’s amazing how quickly Loki’s mood can fall. An hour ago, he’d felt like he actually belonged, and now he’s leaning against the wall by himself, feeling like he’s back in high school and everyone is laughing at him, the skinny loser who has no friends.

He’s a wallflower in every sense of the word, fiddling with his now empty beer bottle, trying not to cry over his stupid fucking brother who’d broken his heart.

So of course, since the universe has some kind of vendetta against Loki, that’s exactly what he’s doing when Thor walks in with Sif, Fandral, and an Asian guy Loki doesn’t recognize.

It’s like time stops. Loki looks up and Thor looks back at him and their eyes meet, directly; there’s no sound, there’s no movement. There’s nothing but Thor’s bright blue eyes and Loki is staring into them like he’s found his North star, the brightest spot in an otherwise black sky.

Loki’s heart gives a painful thud in his chest. He feels that shock of electricity dance up his spine.

And Thor looks fucking amazing, because of course he does.

Thor looks away first. If he’s surprised to see Loki, he doesn’t show it. He turns and whispers something to Fandral, who laughs, and Loki can’t help the flush that creeps up his neck and burns his cheeks. He’s certain that whatever Thor just said was some kind of dig against Loki.

God, he’s so pathetic, isn’t he? He should never have come to this stupid party.

Loki pushes away from the wall and goes into the kitchen, where they’re keeping the hard liquor. He tosses his empty beer bottle in the trash can and picks up a red, plastic cup. He fills it nearly to the top with straight tequila.

It’s definitely time to proceed to full on drunk.

“Whoa,” says Tony, appearing out of nowhere. Loki jumps. “You’re not gonna drink all that, are you?”

“I am,” Loki says, doing his best to look unaffected. He takes a big swallow of the tequila, which almost immediately makes him want to heave. He forces it down. Straight tequila is even worse than the Stark Iced Tea.

“Thor just got here,” Loki adds, when he notices Tony staring at him with something like confusion. Maybe concern. “Already making fun of me with his stupid friends. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Whoa, hey.” Tony takes Loki’s elbow and pulls him away from the table, over to one corner of the kitchen. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He just looked at me and laughed,” Loki replies.

Tony’s brow furrows. “Well … well to hell with him. You’re here with me, yeah? And you definitely should have come, because otherwise, who would I hang out with?”

“All of your other friends?” Loki says dryly.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” Tony responds with a grin, which makes Loki flush. He tries to hide it by taking another - much smaller, this time - sip of tequila.

“You’re just saying that,” he mutters.

“Why would I? I’m not your mom. I don’t have to _just say_ anything.” Tony claps Loki on the shoulder. “So, look, have you ever played beer pong before?”

“No,” Loki admits.

“Okay. You can be on my team. Let me just …” Tony gently takes Loki’s tequila cup away from him and sets it on the counter. “You don’t want to mix that stuff with beer right now,” he adds. “Come on. They’re almost finished setting up. I’ll explain the rules as we go.”

Loki takes a step, and then hesitates. The room is starting to sway a little. “Thor’s out there.”

“Forget Thor,” Tony says decisively. He slings an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

* * *

It takes a good ten minutes for Thor’s heart to stop pounding so fiercely. His throat is dry and parched, so when Sif suggests they grab a couple of beers right away, he doesn’t argue.

What is Loki doing here?

Thor truly hadn’t expected his brother to be here. He’d checked Loki’s Instagram page earlier, and his heart had twisted at the selfie Loki posted with that Stark guy, but it still hadn’t occurred to him that they’d end up at the lacrosse house. He should have known, in retrospect. Tony Stark has a reputation for being a partier.

Seeing Loki had taken Thor completely by surprise. Of course, Loki looked beautiful, in that aloof sort of way he had about him. His eyes were so _green_ and when they met Thor’s, Thor’s stomach felt like it was going to fly out of his throat, like the sensation he got on rollercoasters with steep drops.

He could have stared at Loki forever. Would have, had he not given himself a mental slap in the face. He’d turned away and, to distract himself, made some comment to Fandral about already being able to smell Axe and toxic masculinity. Fandral had laughed, and Thor had wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and arranged his face into a more neutral expression.

When he looked back, Loki was gone.

Now, Fandral and Hogun have wandered off to mingle while Thor and Sif sip at their beers, people-watching. A few minutes ago, Thor had seen Loki and Tony come out of the kitchen, Tony with his arm around Loki, and that made Thor feel even worse.

“Thor!” Sif snaps her fingers and Thor blinks.

“What?”

“I could just be standing here by myself,” she points out. “That’s the third time I said your name. What’s with you?”

Thor shrugs and takes a sip of beer, though it does nothing to ease the dry scratchiness of his throat. “Saw Loki,” he admits, because Sif would see right through any lie he tried to tell her. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“Loki’s here?” Sif cranes her head to search the growing crowd, but Tony and Loki had disappeared again.

“Yeah. With his new boyfriend, looks like.” Thor tried and failed to keep the edge out of his voice.

Sif tilts her head at him but, fortunately, misinterprets his tone. “Don’t pull the overprotective big brother card,” she chides. “You’re only, like, three months older than him.”

“I’m not overprotective,” Thor retorts. “Just … that guy has a reputation, you know? He’s a _junior._ What’s he hanging around Loki for?”

Sif shrugs. “You should just ask Loki what’s going on. Oh, wait.” She holds up a finger, as if she’s just had a brilliant realization. “But that would mean _talking_ to him! Can’t have that, can we?”

“Shut up, Sif.”

“I’m just saying, hasn’t this dumb feud gone on long enough?”

Thor shakes his head. He diverts his attention to the chinchilla cage and moves in that direction. “Look at this guy,” he says, kneeling down to peer at the little black chinchilla, who is happily munching on bits of grass. “Wonder what his name is?”

“Who knows? Stop trying to change the subject.” Sif kneels next to him and sticks a finger through the cage bars, running it along the chinchilla’s skull. “What did you two fight about?”

It’s hardly the first time she’s asked him. He says as much just by giving her a look, and then takes another sip of his beer.

“Right, it’s a big secret.” Sif shakes her head and they straighten again. “If you’re so mad at each other, why bother keeping each other’s secrets?”

Thor shrugs. “We’re still brothers,” he responds, and it should be explanation enough.

He and Loki had crossed a line that was never meant to be crossed. Thor should have known better than to push those boundaries, but he’d gotten caught up in it - the feelings he’d been trying to suppress for as long as he could remember had swept him away and he’d lost his head a little. A lot.

Thor should have known better.

Everything between them is fucked now, their friendship ruined, but despite that, it’s like they’ve both made this unspoken agreement to keep the truth of it between themselves. No matter how mad he is at Loki (and he’s not even mad, it’s _Loki_ who’s furious, Loki who’d stopped speaking to Thor first), he’d never betray Loki like that. He’d never spill their secrets, just to offer some explanation to all the people in their lives who keep asking _why._

It’s nobody else’s goddamn business, anyway.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. You have no idea how many times I wrote “tumbler” as “tumblr.”
> 
> 2\. I went to a party once in college where the people had a huge chinchilla cage in the living room, which I thought was the coolest thing ever.
> 
> 3\. Loki and Thor are idiots. Next chapter will have some confrontations and flashbacks. 
> 
> 4\. Thank you for reading and for the lovely feedback! Comments are my heroin. Feel free to say hi/hang out with me on tumblr at @iamanartichoke. :)


	3. it’s a silly time to learn to swim when you start to drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor butt heads at the lacrosse party. Both of them decide getting drunk is the best solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (You may have noticed I've decided to use song lyrics as chapter titles. They don't really mean anything; I'm just really having fun with my feels.)
> 
> Chapter 3 lyrics from "My Number" by Tegan and Sara.

 

 

 

Loki has always had freaky good aim, so it’s no surprise when Thor wanders into the dining room to find Loki and Tony winning at their game of beer pong. Thor leans against the archway connecting the dining room to the living room, sipping his beer as he watches.

Tony and Loki have paired off against two lacrosse players who, if nothing else, are being good sports about losing. One of them keeps happily chugging the cups of beer that the balls land in, while the other one playfully shoves him around and says, “This is why we’re losing, man, you can’t fucking stay sober.” Almost all of the cups on the lacrosse players’ side are gone, whereas Tony and Loki still have several.

Thor tries to catch Loki’s eye, although he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he does. It doesn’t matter. Loki never looks over at him. He’s completely focused on the game and only looks away from the table to grin back at Tony or to lean in and say something to make Tony laugh.

Each time Loki smiles at Tony, Thor feels it like a blade sliding between his ribs. He wants to turn away, to go find his friends or maybe find someone to flirt with so that he can try to make Loki as jealous as Thor’s feeling. It’s a stupid, childish urge; but, Thor can be stupid and childish when he wants to be.

He ends up staying where he is, though, until the end of the game. When Tony and Loki exchange high fives and begin setting up the table again, Thor takes a deep breath and crosses over to them. His heart feels like it’s in his throat as Loki’s gaze flicks to him.

Their eyes lock for just a moment. Thor is sure he sees a flicker of panic in Loki’s green-eyed gaze, but just as quickly it’s gone again, and Loki simply looks bored.

“Hey,” Thor says simply.

“Hey,” Loki replies.

Neither of them says anything else. Thor fidgets with his beer bottle and Loki tosses a pong ball from one hand to the other. The silence probably only lasts five seconds, but it feels like it’s stretches for an eternity before Tony clears his throat.

“Hey,” he says to Thor, sticking out his hand. “I’m Tony.”

“I know who you are.” Thor’s gaze slides away from Loki as he reluctantly takes Tony’s hand and shakes it briefly. Then, he turns back to Loki. “Look, can we talk for a minute? Alone?”

Loki hesitates. Opens and closes his mouth. Glances at Tony. “Um, we’re kind of … I  mean, I’m a little busy, so …”

Thor swallows hard; he doesn’t even know what he wants to say to Loki, but the rejection stings all the same.

“I can finish setting up,” Tony cuts in, before Thor can reply. He reaches out and gives Loki’s forearm a squeeze. “Take your time.”

If looks could kill, Thor isn’t sure who would drop dead first - Tony, or himself. “Thanks,” Loki says, very tightly. Tony’s hand is lingering on Loki’s forearm and something about the gesture - it’s too intimate, Thor thinks, and who the hell is Tony to be putting his hands all over Loki anyway? - makes Thor’s heart squeeze. Before he thinks it through, he grabs Loki by the elbow and practically pulls his brother into the mostly empty kitchen.

As soon as they’re in there, Loki yanks his arm out of Thor’s grasp. “What’s your problem?” he demands. “Are you trying to humiliate me on purpose?”

“Of course not,” Thor protests. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Loki huffs and crosses his arms. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

Loki is wrong, so wrong. They have everything to talk about. Longing and frustration wash over Thor in one, cold wave because why does Loki have to be so _stubborn?_ They could have fixed this weeks ago, if Loki would give just a _little_.

“You know that’s not true,” Thor says and then, before Loki can respond, he presses on. “Is there something going on between you and Tony Stark?”

Loki’s eyes go wide and a bit of color rises to his cheeks. “How is that _any_ of your business?”

How can it _not_ be his business? “I just.” Thor draws in a breath and lets it out slowly, collecting his thoughts. “I know Tony has kind of a reputation. He likes to party and date around, you know.”

“So?”

“ _So_ , you might think he’s interested in you, but he’s not,” Thor snaps, his temper getting the better of him. “He’s interested in a good time is all.”

Something strange crosses over Loki’s face, even as the color on his cheeks deepens. “Oh,” he says, with a nod, “it’s just so impossible that _anyone_ could want me for more than a quick fuck, is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” Thor lets out an aggravated breath. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then how _do_ you mean it, Thor?” Loki’s gaze is piercing, and Thor knows this isn’t the way this was supposed to go. Yet something deep down in his abdomen flutters, like the tiniest moth rousing itself in the dark because it caught a glimpse of a flame. For the first time in weeks, Loki is showing him real _emotion._ Loki can’t hide the fury that flashes in his eyes, or the indignant splash of color on his cheeks and Thor's pulse jumps and stutters in response. It hadn’t been Thor’s intent to force that cold mask to drop - not like this, anyway - but, well, now that he sees he’s getting to Loki, he somehow can’t bring himself to stop.

“I only mean that guys like Tony don’t get serious with _anyone_ ,” Thor tries. “It’s nothing to do with you - like, nothing personal, I mean.”

“ _Nothing personal?_ ” Loki folds his arms across his chest, his mouth dropping open a bit.

“I just mean, it’s not your fault,” Thor says. “That’s just how guys like him are, is all I’m saying.” Loki’s features are growing harder by the second and Thor suddenly regrets his desire to push more emotion out of Loki; the way Loki is looking at him, Thor realizes he had most likely just set their nonexistent progress back several months.

Thor takes a moment to breathe. Closes his eyes and collects his thoughts. When he speaks again, he’s careful to keep his voice soft, to frame his words to reflect his concern rather than his jealousy. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Loki, okay?”

Loki’s expression shutters. He tightens his arms around himself and looks away. Some of the color has faded from his cheeks, and Thor starts to take a step closer, but before he can, Loki’s eyes dart back to his and they’re just as full of fury as they had been before.

“You,” Loki finally says, “have a lot of goddamn nerve.”

Whatever response Thor was expecting, that wasn’t it. He can feel his own cheeks warm. “Loki -”

“You don’t know Tony at _all_ ,” Loki goes on, “but you’re standing there, judging him, because he has the nerve to be nice to me? Telling me it’s not my fault that Tony doesn’t _actually_ want me, so I better not get too invested? You are _such_ a goddamn asshole, Thor.”

That blade slips between Thor’s ribs again, harder this time, as if Loki has taken it by the hilt and shoved it through Thor’s skin like butter. “That’s not what I -”

“ _Furthermore,_ ” Loki cuts him off, “you made your feelings about me perfectly clear, so you don’t get to stand here now and act like you give a shit about whether or not I get hurt.”

The kitchen suddenly feels entirely too stuffy. Thor’s chest constricts as he stares at Loki. His brother is still holding himself rigidly, his arms crossed; Thor can see Loki’s fingers digging into his upper arms.

It’s hard for Thor to find his voice. “I _do_ give a shit, Loki. Of course I do.”

“Really? Could have fooled me, since you didn’t give a shit when it was you doing the hurting.” Loki lifts his chin, green eyes defiant, _daring_ Thor to disagree.

“Is that really what you think?” Thor dares to take a step closer. Everything in him is screaming out to touch Loki, to wrap his arms around Loki and never let him go, because Loki is an idiot if he truly thinks Thor doesn’t care about Loki’s pain, that Thor hasn’t felt it himself.

Loki steps back. His jaw is tight. “Of course. It’s the truth,” he says and there’s a hard edge in his voice that makes Thor’s chest collapse. His throat feels dry and he has to swallow a couple of times.

“Loki, no,” is what he says, when he feels like he can speak. “It’s not the truth. It never was.”

Loki’s brow furrows for a split-second as he tilts his head at Thor. The expression makes him look adorably vulnerable, but before Thor can say anything else, it’s gone and Loki’s features have gone hard again. “If that’s what you have to tell yourself,” he replies, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter, Thor. Just stay out of my life, okay?”

Frustration pools in Thor’s stomach and he throws up his hands, letting out a loud huff. “Goddamn it, Loki, why are you always so stubborn? Do you think I like this any more than you do? Do you think I don’t think about us, and wish it was different, but -”

“Shut up,” Loki growls. He takes another few steps away from Thor. “I don’t need to hear the speech again - if it was different, if you or I were anyone else, _if, if, if._ You want to know what I think? I think that _if_ you truly gave a shit about me the way you claim to, then none of that other stuff would _matter._ It doesn’t to me.”

“You’re hopelessly naive, then,” Thor snaps. He doesn’t mean to sound impatient, but Loki has to realize why it’s impossible, doesn’t he? Loki has always been the smarter of the twol. How can he be so obtuse about this? How can he not _see?_

Loki scowls. “And _you’re_ hopelessly cynical,” he retorts. “It’s whatever. Either way, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Thor agrees, and now his voice has gone quiet, resigned. “Look, just … just be careful, okay, Loki? That’s all I wanted to tell you.”

“Your concern is noted,” Loki says flatly. “You’ve done your _brotherly_ duty.” He starts to turn away and then stops, looking back at Thor again. “By the way, I’m spending the night with Tony tonight. So, you know, don’t wait up.”

Loki couldn’t go without twisting that blade a little, could he? Thor feels hot and cold at the same time, but before he can reply, Loki has turned away again and is walking out of the kitchen.

He doesn’t look back this time; he just disappears into the crowd, leaving Thor standing there, feeling like he’s going to be sick.

Swallowing down his nausea, Thor goes over to the table, where several bottles of hard alcohol are set out. He grabs a cup and pours himself a large shot of vodka, and then tosses it back. Then he follows it with another. And another after that.

When Sif finds him, Thor is pouring his fourth shot and he’s having a little trouble holding the bottle steady. “Whoa,” she says, reaching out and grabbing the bottle. “You’re about to spill that everywhere.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Thor snaps, but he just holds out his cup and allows her to pour out the shot for him. Then she pours one for herself. They clink plastic cups and down their shots, and then Thor collapses into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Are we having fun?” Sif asks, dryly, as she pours a generous amount of vodka into each of their cups. She goes over to the refrigerator and roots around for a moment before she returns with the carton of orange juice, which she adds to their vodka. “These will last a little while,” she adds, holding up her cup. She sits down in the chair across from him and swings her feet up to rest across Thor’s knees.

Thor takes a sip of the screwdriver. It’s certainly better than the shots, and judging by the way his head is feeling, it’ll be just that little bit extra that he needs to get full-on drunk. Everything in the room is starting to spin and Thor feels tears blurring his vision and maybe he’s actually drunk already, now that he thinks about it.

“We are _not_ having fun,” Thor says, answering Sif’s question. “Where’ve you been?”

Sif gestures vaguely toward the wall. “Backyard. Someone lit up the fire pit.”

“These guys have a fire pit?”

Sif grins. “Yeah. Off-campus living is truly the life, looks like.”

“Mm. Are Hogun and Fandral out there, too?” Thor hasn’t seen either of them in awhile, he realizes.

“Yeah.”

Thor nods, and Sif nods. They fall into a silence that isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but nor is it peaceful. Thor can feel Sif’s eyes on his face, but he keeps his gaze lowered, staring into his screwdriver, wishing that it was possible to rewind the last twenty minutes. He’d leave Loki alone, let Loki make whatever mistakes he wanted to make because fuck him, Thor had _tried_ , and all he got in return was bullshit.

In fact, if he was rewinding time, he’d go ahead and rewind all the way to the end of June. He’d undo the Fourth of July and everything that had followed after. He’d give his past-self a firm slap in the face and tell him that it didn’t matter how he felt about Loki, it wasn’t worth ruining their friendship over. He’d turn back time to before he knew how soft Loki's eyes could be, how soft Loki _felt_ , smooth and exquisite even though his body was all hard lines and sharp angles. _Loki, Loki._

“I talked to Loki,” he hears himself say, and Sif looks sharply at him. “Didn’t go so well.”

“What did you say to him?”

Thor shrugs and takes a gulp of his drink. “I told him to be careful with Tony. That Tony dates around and I didn’t want to see Loki get hurt. Loki … took to that about as well as you’d think.”

Sif blows out her breath and nudges one of his knees with her heel. “Well, that’s not surprising. Loki hates being told what to do, you know that.”

“I just want to look out for him.”

“You have to let Loki make his own choices. Or mistakes, if that’s what they turn out to be. You can’t protect him forever, especially when you two aren’t even on speaking terms.” Sif pauses. “Unless you are now?”

Thor shakes his head, miserably. “Loki made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me. It’s my own fault, though.”

“Why do you think it’s your fault?” Sif’s tone is casual.

“Because … I did something to him, over the summer. Something he won’t forgive me for.”

“What did you do?”

Thor shakes his head again. He’s already said too much, and he isn’t drunk enough to reveal any more. He presses his lips together and lifts his shoulders. “I can’t tell you.”

Sif lets out a breath. It sounds like she’s been holding it for awhile. “Hard to help without knowing the details,” she points out.

“I don’t need your help,” Thor growls, and when Sif raises her eyebrows, Thor lets out a breath of his own. Sif has always been his closest friend, after Loki. He doesn’t need to alienate her, too.

“Sorry,” he tells her. “I just … I’m only venting, Sif. Not looking for advice. If it’s going to get fixed, between Loki and me, then we have to figure out how to do it ourselves. But at this point, I honestly don’t see that happening. Loki would hold a grudge for a hundred years, if he thought he’d live that long.”

“With some people, sure,” Sif agrees. She nudges Thor’s knee again. “But not you. He loves you too much, Thor, you know that. Whatever you did, or whatever he’s feeling … he won’t stay so angry for very long.”

Thor smiles a little, sadness and regret settling over him like weights. “I wish I could believe that,” he responds honestly, and then tips his head back, downing the rest of his drink. “But I appreciate it anyway.”

Sif tilts her head to the side. If she has anything further to say, she decides against it. Instead, she sighs, finishes her own drink, and then gets to her feet. She sways a little and giggles. “Well. No use moping about it,” she says, and reaches for Thor’s hands.

Thor allows her to slip her fingers between his and pull him up. They stumble together and Sif laughs again. The room is really spinning now. For a moment, Thor clutches onto Sif, feeling like he’s going to either collapse or hurl or possibly both.

“Shit,” he says, when he finds his voice. “Might’ve overdone it on the vodka.”

“You think? You’d downed half the bottle by the time I got here.” Sif slings an arm around his waist and Thor mirrors the gesture. He isn’t sure which of them is leaning more heavily on the other. “Come on,” she continues. “Let’s go outside. The fire’s nice and warm.”

* * *

Loki is fuming. He’s too furious to play beer pong again, so Bucky takes his place while Loki sits on the couch, clutching a cup of beer Tony had passed to him. He sips and watches the game without really seeing it, although every so often Tony catches Loki’s eye and grins, and Loki forces himself to grin back.

He can’t stop thinking about Thor’s words.

It makes him indignant all over again, each time he replays the conversation over. How dare Thor try to take away the one good thing Loki has going for him right now? How dare he pretend that he cares about Loki’s feelings? He hasn’t cared since July, or maybe since even before that.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Loki get hurt, Loki reasons. No, Thor just doesn’t want Loki to move on. He’s just so selfish and egotistical, he probably gets off on the thought of Loki pining endlessly over him.

Asshole.

And he’s so wrong about Tony, anyway. It’s not like that between Tony and Loki, although Loki isn’t _blind._ Tony is hot, yeah, and Loki knows he’s at least as interested in guys as he is girls ... but, they’re just friends. Loki _needs_ a friend. He doesn't want to lose Tony, and he knows, now, how fucked up a friendship can get when sex is thrown into the mix.

He’s nearly finished his beer without even realizing it. His anger seems to have burned the edge off of his inebriation, and those Stark Iced Teas now feel like a long time ago. Loki gets to his feet, because for whatever reason, all of the hard alcohol is in the kitchen. Hopefully, Thor is gone by now.

He sets his empty cup down on the coffee table and stumbles toward the kitchen, just in time to see Sif pull Thor to his feet. Loki freezes in the threshold as he watches Thor practically tumble into her arms. They both start laughing; neither one seems in any hurry to let go of the other. They don’t notice Loki at all.

Liar, Thor is such a _liar_ . He claims to care about Loki, and five minutes later, he’s off and flirting with _Sif,_ of all people? Hot tears blur Loki’s vision. He stays rooted to the spot until Thor and Sif head out the back door, their arms still around one another, and then he moves over to the liquor table.

His head is spinning. He feels heavy and weightless at the same time, like he could fly apart at any moment and it’s only the pressure of his heartache, pushing down on him, that keeps him grounded. Loki takes a deep breath as he opens the tequila bottle. He doesn’t even care that it tastes horrible; he doesn’t even stop for a cup. He simply lifts the entire bottle to his mouth and swallows it down while his tears slip down his cheeks.

Ugh. Loki lowers the bottle, coughing. Even when he’s already drunk, the shit tastes terrible. The price of inebriation is steep, he thinks. Oh well. He can’t put it back now. He’s already had his mouth all over it. “Guess it’s mine now,” he says out loud to the empty kitchen, and laughs before taking another sip.

He doesn’t want to think about anything anymore.

* * *

__**  
**

Odin and Frigga rented a beach house on Nantucket Sound for two weeks each summer, right at the beginning of July, when the town was at its peak as it was flooded with summer residents and tourists alike. They flocked to the beach in droves, seeking refuge from the stifling heat of the cities and suburbs, from the everyday routine. It was Thor and Loki’s favorite time of year, for the sunshine and the crashing waves and the fact that their parents took two whole weeks off of work.

This year, the house that they rented was directly on the shore. It had two floors, a large wraparound porch with a swing, and a spectacular view of the ocean. Even though there were enough rooms for Loki and Thor to each have their own, they immediately chose to share the bedroom in the furthermost corner of the second floor. There was a bay window with a seat looking out over the beach; sunlight streamed in and, when Loki pushed open the glass and took a deep breath, he could practically taste the salt in the air.

“What do you want to do first?” Loki asked Thor, who had already taken over the bed and was laying spread out in the middle. “Beach?”

“Mm. We have two entire weeks to go to the beach,” Thor said. He began to roll from side-to-side on the bed. “I’m starving.”

“That’s nothing new.” Loki rolled his eyes. He dropped down onto the window seat and faced Thor, raising an eyebrow as Thor continued to roll. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Staking my claim,” Thor replied. He gestured at the rumpled sheets, which grew more wrinkled beneath him as he moved. “See, the bed already looks slept in now. That means it’s mine.”

Loki made a face. “But I literally just watched you mess it up. I _know_ you haven’t slept in it yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Sorry, brother, but I guess you’re just going to have to make the floor nice and comfy - oof!” His words were cut off with a yelp as Loki, quick as anything, launched himself from the window seat onto the bed, landing directly on top of Thor.

Thor made a somewhat strangled sound as Loki adjusted himself, digging his sharp elbows into Thor’s abdomen. “What was that about possession?” Loki asked with a grin.

“I can’t breathe,” was Thor’s strained reply.

“What?” Loki dug his elbows in harder. “Did you say, _Loki, I’m going to sleep on the floor?_ ”

“Over my dead body,” Thor gasped out.

“That could be arranged.”

“You’re such a little shit.” Abruptly, Thor grabbed Loki just above his elbows. It was Loki’s turn to yelp in surprise as Thor shoved Loki off and flipped them over, so that Loki was pinned to the mattress, Thor’s fingers wrapped possessively around Loki’s biceps. “Say uncle.”

Loki struggled against Thor’s grip. “Never.”

Thor pressed down, his entire body practically covering Loki’s. This close, Loki could smell the mango-scented shampoo Thor had used that morning. Loki licked his lips, refusing to give in, even as Thor brought his face in closer, smirking at Loki’s feeble attempts to squirm out of his hold. “Say it,” Thor demanded again.

In response, Loki maneuvered to grip at Thor’s sides with his palms. Thor’s t-shirt had ridden up a bit, so Loki’s hands rested on Thor’s bare skin. Thor let out a little noise at the contact. “Jeez,” he said, momentarily distracted from their game, “why are your hands so freaking cold?”

“Poor circulation,” said Loki.  He ran his palms lightly over the ridges of Thor’s ribs, watching as something unidentifiable crossed Thor’s features. It was gone again before Loki could decipher it. Loki could feel goosebumps break out over Thor’s skin.

“You should get that checked out,” Thor said. Was it Loki’s imagination, or did Thor’s cheeks look a little flushed?

“Your concern is noted,” said Loki. Without warning, then, he dug his fingers into Thor’s skin, hard. Thor let out a screech that probably could have been heard all the way down on the beach as he leapt back. Relentless, Loki kept his hold firm, flipping them over again so that he had Thor pinned and squirming as Loki mercilessly tickled him.

“Say uncle!” Loki demanded.

“You … little ….” Thor gasped, both shouting and laughing hysterically, “ … _shit!_ ”

“That didn’t sound like _uncle_ to me,” said Loki. He amped up the tickling until Thor squealed and shoved him back, exclaiming, “Uncle, uncle, you asshole!” Only then did Loki relent, dropping to the mattress beside Thor. They lay there, side-by-side, both breathing hard. Thor was still giggling weakly, which made Loki giggle, too.

“What on _earth_ is going on in here?” Frigga demanded from the doorway.

“Thor just offered to sleep on the floor,” Loki said, lifting his head just enough to grin at her.

“I did not!” Thor protested.

“There are other bedrooms, you know,” Frigga pointed out, even as she sighed and looked resigned. When neither boy moved, she shook her head and smiled indulgently. “Well, work it out, then, but try not to destroy anything in the meantime, okay? We have a deposit.”

“Yes, Mom,” Thor and Loki said in unison.

“Your father and I are going to head into town in about fifteen minutes,” Frigga went on. “Odin wants to stock up on stuff for the barbeque. If you boys come along, we can get dinner while we’re out.”

“Ooh, yes,” Thor said immediately, which made Loki roll his eyes. Thor was always thinking with his stomach. “Sounds great.”

“Good.” Frigga hesitated, as if she were going to say something else, but then she changed her mind. With a parting, “Fifteen minutes!” she disappeared, and Loki rolled onto his side to face Thor.

“We could just share the bed, you know,” Loki said. “It’s big enough.”

“Of course we can share. Wasn’t that the plan all along?” Thor rolled over as well. They were sharing the same pillow, and Loki picked up on the scent of Thor’s shampoo again. He was overcome, suddenly, with the urge to run his fingers through Thor’s hair, to see if it was truly as silky as it looked.

Loki swallowed hard. He didn’t move. “So you mean, that whole thing just now could have been avoided?”

“Sure, but where’s the fun in that?” Thor grinned and reached out. For a moment, Loki’s heart jumped into his throat, because it looked like Thor had the same urge to run his fingers through Loki’s hair - but, Thor only ruffled Loki’s black mop before pushing himself up. “Come on,” Thor continued. “I want to change before we go out.”

Thor hopped over Loki, then, and picked up his suitcase from the floor, but Loki didn’t follow. He turned onto his back instead, folding his arms over his abdomen and staring up at the ceiling. It may have been lingering under the surface for years, for all he knew, but looking back, Loki thinks that that afternoon was when it had all really started.

* * *

Loki is laying on the cold bathroom floor, his cheek pressed to the tile. He comes into awareness all at once because there is a persistent buzzing noise coming from somewhere. For several long seconds, Loki thinks he’s still in his and Thor’s bedroom in the beach house -

But, no, that isn’t right. The floor in that bedroom had been shiny wood, with a soft beige area rug. This floor is hard and smells faintly of bleach.

The buzzing noise stops, and then starts up again. Loki frowns, wearily pushing himself up onto his elbows. Oh. His phone is laying next to him, with Tony’s name on the Caller ID.

He realizes where he is at the same time that he notices his head his absolutely pounding. Loki fumbles for the phone but, before he can answer, he’s overcome with the urge to vomit. He drops the phone and surges up to his knees, gripping the toilet bowl. He barely has time to think before he’s heaving up what feels like the entire contents of his stomach. From the taste in his mouth, he can tell this isn’t the first time he’s thrown up. How fucking much had he ended up drinking?

When he feels like there’s nothing left inside of him, Loki reaches for the handle with shaky fingers. He flushes the mess away, his face hot, tears in his eyes. So much for a fun fucking night. But then, getting trashed is, like, a rite of passage in college, isn’t it? Maybe Loki is just finally fitting in, although it’s beyond him now why anyone would actively seek out this feeling.

The phone is still buzzing. Loki makes a face as he lets go of the toilet and fumbles for the phone again. It takes him a few tries before he manages to hit the green Answer button. “Hello.”

“Loki!” Tony’s voice is loud on the other end and Loki winces. “Where are you?”

“Um.” Loki sits up, pressing his back against the tub. “Bathroom.”

“Still at the house?”

The bathroom is unfamiliar, which means it’s not Loki’s bathroom or Tony’s bathroom. “I think so, yeah. Got sick.”

Tony laughs, good-naturedly. “Not surprised. Last time I saw you, you were mainlining tequila. That was … maybe forty five minutes ago? I got worried. Anyway, I’m heading back to my place with Steve and Bucky. You’re still sleeping over, right?”

Loki nods, and then remembers that Tony can’t see him. Thinking about the trek to Tony’s apartment makes Loki’s stomach twist again. He closes his eyes tightly, pressing his spinning head to his knees. He can’t stay in this bathroom all night. “Yeah. Please. I can’t go back to my room.”

Tony makes a sympathetic noise, but doesn’t press. “Okay. Hang tight and I’ll come get you, okay?”

“In the bathroom?” Loki asks, blankly.

“Yup.” Tony falls silent and Loki thinks that he should say something, but his head hurts too much to think of anything. He’s holding his phone limply to his ear, listening to the shuffle on the other end as Tony makes his way through the house. Finally, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“I’m here,” says Tony into the phone. “You gotta open the door, it’s locked.”

Oh, but the door is so far away. Loki swallows and hangs up the phone without responding. He leans his head back and stares at the door for a very long time, before Tony knocks again and calls, “Loki? You okay?”

Loki isn’t okay, and it’s not just that he’s more drunk than he’s ever been in his life. His knees are shaking, but he manages to get to his feet. Walking over to the door and unlocking it proves to be more than Loki can handle, and suddenly he’s on his knees again, throwing up while Tony kneels behind him, smoothing his hair back.

“I’m sorry,” Loki manages to get out, humiliated. He’s a fucking mess. Tony will want nothing to do with him anymore - after all, who would want to hang out with some loser freshman who can’t even hold his tequila? Just as well, though. He was probably going to drop Loki once he realized Loki wouldn’t fuck him, anyway. That’s all Loki is good for, isn’t that what Thor said? Loki is pathetic; why would anyone bother giving a shit about him?

He realizes that Tony is speaking and he forces himself to focus. “ - all right,” Tony says, soothingly. His hands are warm in Loki’s hair. “Happens to the best of us, trust me.”

Loki laughs weakly. “I’m so pathetic,” he says, as Tony helps him to his feet.

“No,” Tony replies. Loki goes over to the sink and concentrates on rinsing his mouth out. “You’re human,” Tony goes on. “Like everybody else.”

Loki grimaces. He turns off the tap and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror - pale, bleary-eyed, tear-stained. “I’m going to regret this so much tomorrow.”

“Yeah. But I make _excellent_ hangover food.” Tony grins and slings an arm around Loki’s waist. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to include more flashbacks as we go forward, bc I can't just state what happened over the summer like a normal person, I actually have to write it in detail. Sorry. Next chapter will have more uncomfortable Loki and Thor interactions, another flashback, and some fleshing out of the boys' other friendships/daily lives. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are my heroin. Feel free to say hi to me on tumblr at [@iamanartichoke.](https://iamanartichoke.tumblr.com/)


	4. there, there, baby, it's just textbook stuff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's hungover, Thor's sulky, and both of them are stubborn but sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 lyrics from "Speeding Cars" by Imogen Heap.

Loki wakes up with a groan, pressing his face further into his pillow. “Oh, my god,” he murmurs. He doesn’t think he’s ever had such a horrible headache before. It feels like someone had taken a hammer to his skull a few times. 

“Hey, you’re awake!” Tony’s impossibly cheery voice sounds very far away. 

Loki’s only response is to groan again. He hears Tony laugh and would lift his head to glare at him, except that he can’t move. “Don’t laugh at me,” he says. His pitiful voice is muffled against the pillow. 

Somehow, Tony understands what he says. “I’m not. I’m laughing  _ near  _ you.” 

“Don’t mind him,” someone else - Steve? - says. “He’s just glad _ he’s _ not the one with the wicked hangover today.” 

“Damn straight.” There’s the shuffle of footsteps, and then a weight settles down on the couch beside him.  “How’re you feeling, kiddo?” 

How does he  _ think _ Loki is feeling? “Swell,” Loki replies. He can’t lift his head so he settles for turning it on the pillow, cracking one eye open to peer at Tony. “ _ Fabulous. _ ”

“Good,” says Tony, brightly. “Then you’re probably in the mood for my famous hangover eggs!” 

Loki’s stomach turns. “Please, no. I can’t even think about food.” 

“You’ll change your mind when you taste these eggs,” Tony promises. “My dad’s recipe. The old man didn’t get much right, but damn he could  _ cook _ . Come on.” He pokes Loki’s ribs. “You need to drink some water.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Boy, you’re a  _ petulant  _ drunk, aren’t you?” 

Apparently so. Loki lays there for another few moments, until Tony pokes his ribs again, and then he opens his eyes and huffs loudly. “How are you this annoyingly cheerful?” he demands. 

“Comes naturally, baby. I’m a big old ray of sunshine.” Tony flashes his wide grin as he prods Loki, protesting, into a sitting position. He hands Loki two ibuprofen and a large glass of ice water, which Loki drinks eagerly, despite his complaints. He hadn’t realized how parched he was until he’d drained the glass. 

“I’ll get you another,” Tony offers, getting to his feet. 

Loki nods. Tony is being so nice to him; Loki could at least  _ attempt _ to not be such a grouchy cretin. “Thanks,” he says, meeting Tony’s gaze for the first time. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there.” Tony grins again as he hops up and heads into the kitchen.

Loki rubs his eyes and takes a look around, becoming aware of his surroundings. He’s in Tony’s living room, clearly having passed out on the couch at some point last night. He barely remembers the walk back from the lacrosse house after Tony had rescued him from the bathroom. He certainly doesn’t remember Steve and Bucky being with them, but they’re here now.  Steve is sprawled in Tony’s big bean bag chair, Bucky on the floor beside him. They’re playing some video game, but even just a glance at the bright flashes on the screen makes Loki’s stomach roll again and he has to look away. 

Fortunately, Tony is back before it gets awkward. It’s not that Loki doesn’t like Steve and Bucky, it’s just that he doesn’t know what to _ say _ to them. Especially in this situation. 

“Here you go.” Tony hands Loki the new glass of water, which Loki gratefully gulps down. “So, about those eggs. I’m gonna go whip up a batch - trust me, you need to eat,” he adds, at Loki’s dismayed look. “While I do that, you’re welcome to use the shower, or you can lay down a bit more, or whatever you want. ‘Kay?” 

Loki nods. He feels a little twinge of anxiety in his chest and he tries to ignore it, but Tony is still being so nice to him, and - “Why are you being so nice?” he asks, and he can’t help the suspicious edge to his tone. Thor’s words from the night before are pulsing in the back of Loki’s head, and he can’t help but wonder -  _ worry _ , really - if Tony’s kindness is genuine, or if he just thinks it’ll help him get Loki into bed faster. 

To his credit, Tony looks appropriately confused. He lifts his eyebrows at Loki. “What do you mean? I’m giving you breakfast and access to the shower. I’m hardly Mother Theresa.” 

“Yeah, but …” Loki trails off, his worry receding as embarrassment floods up to take its place. “Sorry, I guess I thought … you know, I’m a hungover mess and most people don’t want to deal with that, that’s all.” 

“Tony’s the group dad,” Bucky supplies, and Loki flinches at his voice. He hadn’t forgotten they were there, but they’d been talking between themselves and playing their game and Loki had assumed they weren’t paying him and Tony any attention. “He likes taking care of people, right, Tone?” 

Tony rolls his eyes. “I maintain that being a decent person doesn’t make me anyone’s dad.” 

“Don’t be modest,” Steve says, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “You go above and beyond decent. Trust me, Loki, once Tony decides to take you under his wing, he takes it seriously.” 

“Second dad for life,” Bucky agrees. “Or actual dad, you know, depending on your family situation.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Tony is actually blushing. Not obviously, but a little color has risen to his cheeks and he’s not meeting anyone’s gaze. “It’s not my fault that the bar for decency is set so low. Now, who all wants eggs?” 

“Me,” Steve and Bucky reply in unison. They look at each other and laugh, Bucky nudging Steve’s arm, and Loki feels a pang go through him. God, he fucking misses Thor. 

But, those are dangerous thoughts to have. Loki clears his throat. “I think I’ll take you up on that shower offer, actually,” he says, getting to his feet.  Too fast - he immediately sways and wobbles as his vision goes dark, and then slides clear again. “Whoa.” 

“Yeah, take it easy, buddy.” Tony suddenly looks worried. “You sure you’re up for that? On second thought, the last thing anyone needs is you passing out in there and cracking your head open.” 

“Yeah, the blood stains alone would be a bitch to clean,” Bucky says dryly. Steve kicks him. 

Loki ignores them both. “I’m fine. Just stood up too fast.” 

“Okay. Well, when you’re done, there’ll be eggs for you.” With that, Tony heads back into the kitchen, and Steve and Bucky go back to their game. 

Since Loki had planned on spending the night, he has his overnight things in his backpack, which he brings with him into the bathroom. His reflection makes him wince; at some point, either last night or while he slept, the eyeliner Tony had so carefully applied had smudged and that, combined with the circles under his eyes, give him a drawn, hollow look. 

His hair isn’t holding up so great, either. God, and Tony, Steve, and Bucky had all  _ seen _ him like this. Feeling embarrassed all over again, Loki turns away from the mirror and hurries to undress. The sooner he showers, the sooner he’ll feel clean and in control again. 

In the shower, he turns the water on as hot as it will go and stands under the spray for a long time, washing his hair and scrubbing the grimy feeling of tequila and vomit from his skin. When he finally emerges, he dresses in the change of clothes he’d brought, brushes his teeth twice, and then runs a comb through his wet curls. 

Much better, he decides, looking at himself in the mirror again. His headache is even starting to fade, although he still feels heavy and kind of groggy. Slightly off-balance. At least he _ looks _ good, though. 

By the time Loki returns to the living room, Tony has finished cooking the eggs and he, Steve, and Bucky are sprawled around the living room, eating. The video game is off and now there’s a movie playing on the tv. Tony catches sight of Loki and says simply, “I left you some eggs on the counter. Eat them or else.” 

Loki is half-tempted to respond with,  _ or else what?  _ but Tony doesn’t deserve to be snapped at. Instead, despite the turning of his stomach, Loki obediently goes into the kitchen to get his plate of eggs. To his surprise, they look good - scrambled up with cheese, tomatoes, and bacon bits - _ and  _ they’re still hot. 

Okay, so, maybe Loki is a  _ little _ hungry. 

By the time he’s joined the rest of them in the living room and eaten his plate of eggs, Tony has gotten up to make another batch. Loki accepts seconds and even a glass of orange juice and those things, combined with the shower, leave him feeling much better. Almost human again, albeit exhausted and a little off-kilter. 

It’s nearly three in the afternoon by the time Loki thanks Tony and heads back to his dorm room. With any luck, Thor will be out somewhere and Loki can just lay down in his bed and sleep off the remnants of his hangover. 

With any luck. 

Loki jams his hands in his jacket pockets as he walks, his head ducked down against the cold. 

* * *

The house they’d rented this year was pretty well-stocked with groceries and various household things, but Odin was nothing if not fanatical about his Fourth of July barbecue menu. When they headed into town, it was with a hefty grocery list and several of the reusable tote bags their mother always insisted upon. 

They’d only been in Nantucket for an afternoon but it already felt like they’d been there forever. Thor was positively giddy as they walked down the main road that would lead them into town. It was a brilliant day; the sun was shining brightly and even from the road, Thor could hear the crash of waves down on the shore. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in the salty air, bouncing a little on his heels. 

“Calm down,” Loki said, making a face at him. “You’re like a goddamn puppy sometimes, Jesus.” 

Thor ignored him, bouncing some more. He and Loki were walking ahead of their parents, but Thor was moving even further ahead of Loki and had to pause and slow down so that he could keep pace with his brother. “Better a puppy than a grumpy old cat,” he said, turning on his heel to walk backwards. “I know you’re allergic to the sun and the beach and to happiness, but you’re gonna have to suck it up, buttercup.” 

Loki rolled his eyes rather dramatically. “You know those cartoons where the little pup keeps jumping and bouncing and chattering at the big dog -” 

“Are  _ you  _ the big dog in this analogy? Because that’s hilarious.” 

“ - until finally the big dog loses his patience and eats the little pup?” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that cartoon goes.” 

“I’m pretty sure it is. And no one blames the big dog because the little pup was just so goddamn annoying. The big dog did everyone a _ favor. _ ” 

Thor grinned, turning again to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with Loki. “So, you wanna eat me, then?” he teased, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry on the wind back to their parents, and Thor was _ positive  _ he saw a faint blush creep up Loki’s neck. “I wouldn’t mind,” he added, even lower. 

Loki shoved him. “You’re such a perv, Thor.” 

Thor laughed and skipped ahead. It was easy banter, they joked like that all the time, but  _ this _ time, Thor couldn’t help noticing that his heartbeat had picked up a little, thrumming persistently against his ribs. His mind’s eye flashed to the scene in their bedroom earlier: Loki pinned beneath him, his cold palms pressed against Thor’s bare skin. The touch had sent an electric jolt up Thor’s spine, though he’d managed to play it off like it was just cold, and thinking back on it now made Thor’s throat feel dry. 

God, he was not supposed to be having this kind of reaction to  _ Loki  _ \- but, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t like it was a reaction that had come out of  _ nowhere. _ It was more like the feelings Thor had long harbored for Loki had been forced into dormancy, like a beehive left abandoned to rot in the middle of the woods. And Loki’s touch, the unreadable flicker in his green eyes, the way he smiled … they were like sticks suddenly thrust through the heart of the beehive and, as a result, all of the wasps and hornets were now swarming around in a frenzy. 

All Thor could do was continue to ignore it and hope the bees grew bored eventually. The buzzing would die down as long as Thor didn’t continue to poke at the nest. 

He pushed the thoughts aside and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. “So, hey, I think we should definitely hit up the beach, like, first thing in the morning,” he said, when Loki caught up to him. “Before the sun’s too hot, you know? And then after lunch, we can go to the bookstore, and oh, I promised Sif I’d bring her some souvenirs …” 

Thor chattered all the way into town, with Loki looking alternately amused and annoyed. The more Thor spoke, the easier it was to push past those annoying little bees and focus on the family vacation -  _ family _ _ being the keyword here _ , he reminded himself as he shot a glance at Loki, clamping down on the urge to reach out and brush a stray lock of black hair from Loki’s forehead. _ Family.  _

By the time they reached Millie’s, the restaurant where they always ate their first night in town, Loki looked decidedly less amused and more like he was ready to strangle Thor. Thor had been keeping up a pretty steady monologue without letting Loki get a word in edgewise. “Thor,” Frigga finally cut in. The distance the boys had been keeping with their parents closed as Frigga and Odin joined Thor and Loki in the restaurant entry. “Maybe breathe, okay?” 

“Sorry - I’m just happy to be here,” Thor said, and flashed his most disarming smile. 

Odin’s eye roll made him look more like Loki’s father than Thor’s. “No dessert tonight,” he decided, folding up his grocery list, which he’d been discussing with Frigga with all the precision of a king preparing for battle. He stuck the list into the pocket of his Hawaiin-print shirt and gave it a pat for good measure. 

Thor’s mouth dropped open. “What? You’re _ punishing _ me for being excited?” 

“Not at all. I’m simply taking preventative measures to keep the rest of us sane. I don’t think any of us is equipped to deal with you after you’ve introduced sugar into the situation,” Odin replied. 

Loki snickered. “The _ situation _ ,” he repeated, gracefully dodging Thor’s attempt to kick his shin. “I love that Thor’s puppy dog state of being is officially a _ situation _ .” 

“Whatever,” Thor muttered, folding his arms. “You’re all just jealous of my sunny disposition.” 

“That’s exactly right,” Frigga agreed, heading off whatever Loki had been just about to say. Something cutting, judging from the smirk on his face. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Thor’s temple, then pushed his hair back. “We’re just jealous.” 

* * *

Dinner had gone well and Odin had even relented from his earlier “no dessert” rule, on the condition that they took it to-go. So, while Odin and Frigga headed to the grocery store, Loki and Thor meandered along the boardwalk with huge ice cream cones that seemed to melt more quickly than they could eat them. The afternoon was fading into early evening yet the sun still beat down into the sweltering twilight air. 

Now that he was no longer running on fumes, Thor didn’t feel the need to take up so much space with conversation. Instead, they walked quietly, close enough that their hands occasionally bumped, neither of them acknowledging the brush of their fingers. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Perhaps, it was; it was only Thor’s heightened awareness of how Loki’s touch was affecting him today that made it any different. 

Thor snuck a glance at Loki out of the corner of his eye. Loki’s head was tilted slightly as he angled his ice cream cone to catch melted drops of mint chocolate chip on his tongue. “Stop,” Thor ordered, and Loki froze, his gaze flicking back to Thor’s in surprise. 

“Don’t move,” Thor went on, fishing into his pocket. 

“What? Is there a bug on me or something?” It was impressive, how still Loki managed to stay even while his eyes went wide. Loki hated bugs. “Get it off!” 

“There’s no bug,” Thor assured him, once he’d retrieved his phone from his pocket. “It’s just -” Thor quickly snapped a couple of photos and then gave his brother a grin. “Instagram-worthy shot, that’s all.” 

“Oh, my god.” Loki blew out his breath, his shoulders relaxing. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“When are you going to get over your ridiculous bug phobia?” Thor asked as he casually snapped a few more shots of Loki. He couldn’t help it. Loki was so damn photogenic, and the twilight-hued sky behind him only made him look even more beautiful than usual. 

Fortunately, Loki was used to Thor taking pictures of him. He never bothered to protest anymore, at any rate. “It’s not a phobia,” he snapped. “I’m just … you know, freaked out by them.” 

“What the hell do you think a phobia  _ is? _ ” Thor asked with a laugh. 

“An irrational, crippling fear,” Loki shot back. They fell into step again, Loki flicking his tongue out to lick the rim of his cone. “There’s nothing irrational about thinking bugs are gross.” 

“It’s  _ kind of _ irrational.” Thor’s response was automatic. He was transfixed by the sight of Loki dragging his tongue along the softened ice cream at the rim of the cone before closing his lips around what remained of the scoop. His lips looked so soft and slightly reddened from the cold. Thor felt his nerve endings jolt and, dear fuck, he was actually standing there getting turned on by watching his brother eat an ice cream cone. 

_ I am so going to the special hell,  _ Thor thought, averting his gaze. He returned his attention to his own ice cream. “You know,” he added weakly, “because they can’t hurt you. Bugs, I mean.” 

“That doesn’t make them any less gross,” Loki said. He was giving Thor a strange look. “Are you okay? You looked weird for a second there.”  

Thor shook his head and cleared his throat. “Cold headache,” he said, and promptly ate a huge mouthful of ice cream. He smiled at Loki around chocolate and marshmallows. “No pain, no gain,” he added. 

Loki shrugged, accepting that. He brought his ice cream cone to his lips again, but he didn’t look away, so Thor didn’t, either. Loki licked at the cone again, more slowly this time and, despite himself, Thor let his gaze fall blatantly to Loki’s mouth. He felt heat prickling at the back of his neck, behind his ears, as he focused on Loki’s soft, pink tongue darting between his lips. 

Oh, yes. Thor was  _ definitely _ going to the special hell. 

The moment probably lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before Thor coughed and averted his gaze. “Come on, loser,” he said, which earned him an indignant huff. “Mom and Dad are probably done at the store by now.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Loki inched closer and nudged his shoulder into Thor’s. “I’m right behind you.” 

* * *

Thor stretches out on his bed, scrolling through Loki’s instagram profile. Loki hasn’t posted anything new since the picture with Tony from the previous night, but Thor isn’t really looking for new pictures. Instead, he’s scrolled back a few months to the beginning of July. 

There, on July 1, is the picture he’d taken of Loki on the boardwalk. His head is tilted to catch his melting ice cream and there’s the tiniest smile at the corner of Loki’s lips that Thor hadn’t noticed at the time. His gaze is directly on Thor. 

Thor remembers sending the picture to Loki, who’d added a couple of filters to it. The final product is even more breathtaking than it had seemed the moment Thor had taken it. The dusky sky behind Loki’s silhouette is vibrant in hues of violet and gold, contrasting with a Loki who, with the aid of the filters, is a slightly darker shade of pale. He’s summer and the setting sun and, looking at the picture now, Thor thinks that that’s when all this truly started. He may have been feeling butterflies already, but _ this  _ was the moment after which there was no turning back. 

There’s a tightness at the back of Thor’s throat that he can’t quite swallow. He drags his thumb across the screen, softly, as if he were actually stroking Loki’s cheek in real life. Loki, who still hasn’t returned from Tony’s and may be spending the entire weekend there, for all Thor knows. 

Thor certainly can’t blame him, after their argument last night  - the quickest way to push Loki into doing something was to tell him that he _shouldn’t,_ after all \- but the thought of it makes Thor feel sick anyway. Or maybe that’s the lingering hangover. 

Either way, Thor is pretty much feeling like shit. 

He closes out Loki’s instagram page and goes into his text messages. There are a couple of commiserating texts from Sif, who’d been nearly as drunk as Thor by the end of the night. Fandral had sent a bunch of  _ you alive?  _ type messages, and there’s even one from Hogun - just a poop emoji, but for Hogun, that’s saying a lot. Thor isn’t the only one feeling like shit today, it would seem. 

Thor sends a green sick emoji back to Hogun. He’s starting a reply to Fandral when he hears Loki’s keys in the door and his heart leaps into his throat. He forces himself to stay still, to look completely unaffected as the door swings open and Loki shuffles in, looking far better than he has any right to, considering what a hungover mess Thor and his friends are. 

Loki’s gaze flicks over Thor and away again. He drops his backpack by his bed and then sits down to take off his boots, all without saying a word. 

Thor watches him out of the corner of his eye for a few moments before he dares to speak. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey,” Loki mutters, not looking up. 

Okay, well, Loki didn’t immediately bite Thor’s head off - so, that’s a good sign. Thor clears his throat, makes his voice friendly. “Did you have a good time last night?” 

Loki shrugs. Finished with his boots, he crawls fully onto his bed, drawing his knees up. “Did I have a good time  _ with Tony _ , you mean?” he asks pointedly. “We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Thor’s voice is sharper than he means it to be. He takes a breath and holds it for a few seconds. “I meant at the party. First big college party, you know?” 

“Especially for a loser like me, right?” 

Thor exhales a breath through his nose, already regretting opening his mouth. The thing about Loki, the thing  _ is _ , if he feels like he’s been wronged, he’ll hold onto the grudge of his hurt feelings for so long that it becomes a  _ part  _ of him. Letting go of the grudge without a fight was, to Loki, like losing a part of his identity. 

Thor doesn’t know if it’s stubborn pride, or if Loki just _ likes _ being a miserable shit, but it’s incredibly frustrating. It’s easy to pine over Loki and lament what they’d lost when Loki isn’t right there in front of him, reminding Thor that he’s gone down this road _ so many times _ since July, only to be rebuffed or outright ignored. 

Sif had said that Thor was different - that Loki loved him too much to stay mad at him like this forever. Thor seriously doubts that, especially when Loki looks up and Thor sees that his green eyes are as cold as ever. 

“I didn’t say that,” Thor tells him, still working to maintain a modicum of friendliness. “I’m just asking. I’m trying to be nice.” 

“Who asked you to?” Loki drops his gaze again. He pulls at a loose thread on his sock. “I didn’t.” 

Thor tosses his phone aside and sits up. He adjusts himself so that his back is pressed against the wall and he’s facing Loki. “I know you didn’t, but Jesus, Loki, would it kill you to _ try? _ ” He hesitates and then decides to just say it. “I miss you.” 

Loki refuses to look up. He tugs persistently at the loose thread; his fingers are the only part of him that’s moving. He’s holding the rest of his body rigid, his shoulders tense. “What’s the point of trying, Thor?” he finally asks. The anger has faded from his voice; he just sounds tired. “So we can go back to being friends? Brothers?” 

“Yes,” Thor says, leaning forward a little. “Are you really going to tell me - and expect me to believe - that you don’t miss it? Don’t miss  _ us? _ ” 

“There is no  _ us, _ ” Loki snaps. “You made that perfectly clear, didn’t you?” 

“So, what … it’s all or nothing for you? Either we be together, regardless of what an absolute shit storm  _ that _ would be, or we just ignore each other forever?” Thor’s throat tightens around the words, frustration coloring his tone because this is the core of the issue, isn’t it? Loki refuses to be pragmatic about the situation, choosing instead to indulge in some la la fantasy land, where brothers could also be lovers and the entire world would just magically be cool with it. 

Loki hates Thor because Thor refuses to be part of that fantasy, refuses to entertain even the  _ possibility _ . Because for Thor, the possibility simply doesn’t exist. It’s not realistic, and it’s not  _ right _ . So again and again, they circle around this same point and they’re both too stubborn to concede to the other. 

As Thor watches, waiting for a response, Loki finally lets go of the loose thread. He finally looks up, and his features are nearly impassive, save for the slight furrow of his brow, the look he gets when he’s thinking hard. 

“You don’t understand,” Loki finally says. “I don’t  _ enjoy  _ this, Thor. Of course I miss … I miss us.” He swallows so hard that Thor can see his Adam’s apple bob. “But it’s just … how do you expect me to go back to that, knowing what we’d be giving up?” Tears spring to his green eyes. “Don’t you care at all? Doesn’t it  _ mean _ anything to you?” 

For the briefest of seconds, Thor wonders if Loki is still drunk, because even though he’s been prying at this, he doesn’t expect the raw vulnerability of those words. Loki’s features are less guarded now, and there’s a faint buzzing in Thor’s ears as he stares at Loki’s face. Everything grows heavy and muffled for a few seconds; he feels like he can’t  _ breathe _ . His heart aches to go to Loki, because how can Loki really think that Thor doesn’t care? That it doesn’t just mean  _ something, _ it means  _ everything? _

The air is so thick with tension, Thor feels like he’s drowning in it. “Of course it does,” he finally says. His voice comes out too soft; he has to clear his throat. “It’s not that simple.” 

“Right.” Loki swallows hard again and, instantly, his face closes. “Well. Then we are where we are. Maybe … maybe when I get  _ over _ you …” 

He trails off, but Thor doesn’t need him to complete the thought. When Loki gets over Thor, then maybe they can be friends again. And when will _ that _ be? 

Thor doesn’t bother asking. There’s a gnawing in his stomach, the tiniest whisper that he doesn’t want Loki to get over him, but how fucking selfish is that? He wants to be friends with Loki and he wants Loki to pine for him, to be _ in love _ with him, at the same time? 

_ Now _ who’s living in la la fantasy land? 

Thor sighs. He nods once to acknowledge Loki’s words and then he pushes himself to his feet and goes over to his closet. “Okay,” he says, into the closet. “I guess we are where we are, then.” 

Loki doesn’t reply. Thor grabs a red hoodie from his closet and tugs it over his head, and then shoves his feet into his sneakers. He’s aware that Loki is watching him, but there’s not really anything more to say, is there? 

“Where are you going?” Loki asks. 

Thor doesn’t actually have a destination in mind; he just knows he regrets starting this conversation and he needs some air. “I dunno. Out. Don’t worry, I won’t be back for awhile. You can have the room to yourself.” 

Loki opens his mouth and then closes it again, simply nodding instead of replying. Thor gets his phone and his keys. He pauses and looks at Loki - but, anything he says will just make it worse. In the end, he just leaves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are where we are, indeed. Next chapter will be more July flashbacks, along with more actual plot, ~~hopefully.~~ Comments light up my life; please leave one if you are so inclined. Thank you for reading and for your support! Feel free to come say hi to me on tumblr at [@iamanartichoke!](https://iamanartichoke.tumblr.com/)


	5. i've seen love die way too many times (when it deserved to be alive)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki talks with Frigga while things remain at a stalemate with Thor. Flashbacks to July.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 lyrics from "Emergency" by Paramore.

 

Frigga calls on Sunday evening. 

Loki is sitting at his desk, working his way through a set of algebra problems and simultaneously trying to not be overly conscious of Thor’s presence, which is easier said than done. 

They’re back to ignoring one another, having barely exchanged two words since the previous day. Loki hates that he’d let his walls drop, however briefly; he thinks of the pleading in his own voice when he’d asked _doesn’t it mean anything to you?_ and his cheeks burn. 

Thor had looked at him with pity, Loki thinks, like Loki was a pathetic puppy dog, salivating over the scraps Thor deigned to toss down from the table. 

And Loki honestly isn’t sure who he hates more: Thor, for doing this to him, or himself, for letting it be done. 

The buzzing of his phone jolts Loki out of his thoughts. _Mom_ flashes on the Caller ID, which makes Loki hesitate, but only for a moment. No matter how bad a mood he’s in, he never shuts Frigga out.  

“Hi, Mom,” he says when he answers. He feels rather than sees Thor glance up at the greeting. 

“Hey, hon.” Frigga’s warm voice makes Loki’s throat tighten in a sudden, unexpected wave of homesickness. “How are you doing?” 

“Okay. Just working on some homework.” Loki sets his pencil down and leans back in his chair. 

“Oh, I’m not interrupting, am I? I can call back later on,” Frigga offers. 

“No, it’s fine,” Loki assures her. “It’s just some stupid algebra. I can do it in my sleep, practically.” Loki’s classes mostly consist of general education requirements, like most freshmen, which unfortunately means they’re ridiculously easy. The exception is his physics class, the one he shares with Tony, which is an advanced class he’d had to get special permission to take. Loki hasn’t officially declared a major, but it’ll probably be astro or maybe space physics. 

Frigga chuckles. “Well, as long as you’re not neglecting anything just to talk to your old mom.” She pauses. “And as long as you’re not literally doing homework in your sleep. We’ve talked about that.” 

Loki rolls his eyes. “That was _one_ time, Mom.” 

“One very memorable time,” Frigga says dryly. 

That’s certainly true enough. The fall of senior year, after college applications had gone out, Loki had become inexplicably yet thoroughly convinced that he would be rejected _everywhere_ , despite being at the top of his class and having impeccable grades. He worked himself up into a near-constant state of panic and the only way he could manage to alleviate it was by immersing himself in schoolwork so that his grades wouldn’t slip an inch. 

It made him feel in control. For weeks, Loki ran on fumes, hardly eating or sleeping. He did nothing but go to school and complete his assignments; sometimes, he’d do the same assignment two or three times, just to make sure he hadn’t made any mistakes. Whenever anyone expressed concern, Loki would brush it off. It was just until he got his acceptance letters, he’d say; after that, he could relax. 

Loki might have continued like that forever, except that just before Thanksgiving break, Odin found him sprawled on the kitchen floor at three in the morning. Loki has no memory of this but, apparently, he was wearing nothing but his underwear and had been eating Trix directly from the box with one hand while scribbling absolute nonsense in his history notebook with the other. He was fast asleep while doing it, apparently indulging in some very weird sleepwalking behavior. 

The incident had really scared his parents. Frigga had thought he had some kind of brain tumor, but Odin said it was most likely anxiety and exhaustion. After Odin got him back to bed, Loki had slept for an entire twenty-four hours and afterward, he’d promptly been taken to a psychologist, who’d talked to him about managing his anxiety in healthy ways. 

Thor had found the whole thing hilarious. It was all very humiliating, as far as Loki was concerned, but his family will probably _never_ let him live it down. 

“In all seriousness, though, how are you?” his mother continues. “Classes going okay? Are you getting enough sleep? Enough to eat?” 

She asks these questions every time she calls. “Yes, Mom,” Loki says. “I’m eating and sleeping and doing well in my classes, just like I was when you asked me last week. Just like I’ll be when you ask me again next week.” 

“No need to get snippy,” Frigga chides. “But fair enough. So tell me what’s new.” 

Loki shrugs, finally deciding to get up. He’s still very aware of Thor’s presence, although Thor is leaning over his own homework and appears to be making a point of _not_ eavesdropping. Loki doesn’t care if Thor overhears the usual parent stuff, but anything more personal than that is, frankly, none of his business. 

Without saying anything, Loki slides his feet into the black slippers that he only wears at home and around the dorm. He lets himself out of the room and walks down the hall to the floor’s common area which, thankfully, is empty. Most students are in their rooms with homework on Sunday nights. 

“Not much,” he finally answers. He drops down onto a cushy loveseat and kicks off his slippers again, drawing his knees up. “I went to a party on Friday.” 

“Did you? That’s great! Did you have a good time?” 

Loki hesitates. He shares more with his mother than most kids do with their parents, but he definitely doesn’t want to tell her he’d spent the night getting absolutely shit-faced and vomiting in the bathroom because Thor made him fucking miserable. He certainly doesn’t want to - _can’t_ \- tell her the truth about Thor.

“Kind of,” he decides to say. Lying with the truth is more effective than bullshitting outright, after all. “I have this new friend - Tony? - and we went together. Turns out I’m pretty good at beer pong.” 

Frigga makes a _hmm_ noise. “Well, you always did have good hand-eye coordination.” 

“Yeah. Anyway, so, that was fun. It was at an off-campus house. They had chinchillas.” 

“What? Did you say they had _enchiladas?_ ” 

Loki snorts. “No, Mom, _chinchillas_. Like, the animal.” 

“Oh!” Frigga laughs. “I was going to say, college parties sure have changed since my time if they’re serving you dinner along with your beer. Chinchillas, though, that’s interesting.”

“Yeah, they had this really elaborate cage and everything. The funniest part is that the house is rented out by a bunch of lacrosse players. _College jocks_ and _responsible pet owners_ don’t really go together, in theory, but the chinchillas seemed pretty happy.” 

“Well, I’d say it sounds like a good way to continue to practice responsibility when they’re away from home,” Frigga points out. “And I’m sure the chinchillas get a lot of attention, too.” 

“Yeah. They were pretty popular,” Loki agrees. He picks at his thumbnail, falling silent as he tries to think of something else to say. Despite how close he is to his mother, the truth of his estrangement from Thor sometimes hangs over them like a shadow. When Loki is wrapped up in thinking about Thor, he finds it hard to talk about anything else - but, obviously, he can’t be honest with Frigga about it, so he ends up saying nothing at all. It makes for a lot of awkward silences. 

Of course, Frigga and Odin know that Loki and Thor haven’t been on speaking terms since Nantucket. Frigga had pushed for a resolution, especially as August drew to a close and the boys’ - _Loki’s,_ really - panic about the college situation was making them all crazy. Odin, however, was of the opinion that if they gave the boys their space, Loki and Thor would eventually work it out. 

Fat chance of that ever happening, Loki thinks, and has to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. 

“You’re making responsible choices, right?” Frigga asks, breaking the silence. 

“What?” 

“When you go to parties. I’m not so out-of-touch that I think you won’t be exposed to drugs and alcohol, especially since it’s your first time away from home,” she continues. “But, you _are_ being responsible with it, aren’t you? Safe? Not driving drunk or having unprotected sex?” 

A warm flush spreads over Loki’s cheeks and he shifts uncomfortably, switching the phone from one ear to the other. His _mother,_ asking about sex! “Mom,” he complains. “I’m not _stupid._ ” 

“I know that, Loki, but you _are_ young. Mistakes happen when irresponsible choices are made.” 

His face is still burning. “Well, I’m not doing that. Being irresponsible, I mean.” 

“Okay, okay.” Frigga doesn’t seem embarrassed in the least. Loki wonders if it’s some sort of Mom Superpower, that she can just bring up these things as casually as if she’s asking him about what he had for dinner. “You know I have to ask.” She pauses. “How’s Thor?” 

Out of the frying pan, straight into the fryer. Loki squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Doing homework as we speak.” 

“Oh, good. I tried him earlier, but he didn’t answer. I guess he was busy?” 

Loki shrugs. He doesn’t actually know; Thor had made himself pretty scarce since their conversation yesterday. “I guess,” he says, noncommittally. 

Frigga sighs. “I suppose asking if things have improved any between you two would be pointless?” 

Loki’s silence is answer enough. 

“All right,” Frigga says, after a very long pause. She tries to hide her disappointment, but Loki can hear it anyway. “Well. I won’t push you. Our counselor said -” She cuts herself off and clears her throat. “Well. Nevermind that.” 

Some of the fog that had settled over Loki’s thoughts shifts a little. He sits up, brow furrowing. “What counselor?” 

There’s a beat, and then Frigga admits, “Odin’s and my counselor. We felt that it would be helpful for us to see someone.”

“Because of me and Thor?” Great. On top of everything else, now they’ve driven their parents to therapy. 

“No. Not _just_ that, anyway.” Frigga sighs. “I didn’t mean to bring this up. It’s a little complicated, sweetheart. Odin and I are just ... we have some things we’re trying to work out.” 

Loki’s skin feels clammy and hot all of a sudden. “You’re not getting a divorce, are you?” 

“No, no, nothing like that,” Frigga hurries to assure him. He can picture her nearly perfectly in his mind’s eye: her brow is furrowed and she’s cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder so that she can fiddle with her fingers or maybe bite her thumbnail. It’s a stance she usually adopts when she finds something - in most cases, _Loki_ \- to be particularly challenging. 

“We’re dealing with a lot of changes, that’s all,” she continues. “As a family. You and Thor are off to college now, and it’s a big change for you two, but it’s a change for us, too. And sometimes it’s a good idea to just … check in, you know? To make sure we’re doing the best we can, for ourselves and for you and Thor.” 

Loki doesn’t buy it. “People don’t go to therapy unless something’s wrong,” he counters. “Isn’t that why you sent me to a psychologist after that whole sleepwalking thing?” 

“Yes, but therapy isn’t just for when something’s wrong. Sometimes, people go to therapy because they want to continue to keep things _right._ Does that make sense?” 

“No,” Loki says flatly. 

“I’m sorry, then, hon. You’ll just have to trust me,” Frigga tells him. 

“Does Thor know about this?” Loki can’t help but ask. 

“No. I’d ask you not to tell him, but …” _That would require speaking to him_ , Frigga doesn’t say. She has a point, but Loki doesn’t know what to make of the fact that their parents are keeping secrets. 

As if he needs anything else to worry about. 

“It’s fine,” Loki says. “I won’t say anything to him.” 

Frigga hums a little in acknowledgement. After that, there doesn’t seem to be too much left to say, and after a round of the usual “yes, I’ll take care, I promise, I miss you and love you too” thing, they hang up. The phone feels heavy in Loki’s hands once the call has disconnected. He sits on the couch for awhile, thinking about all of it, and then he forces himself to his feet and trudges back to his room. 

“Mom said to tell you she called,” Loki says, when he gets back. “She’ll probably try you again soon.” 

“Oh.” Thor nods, barely glancing up from his notebook. “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Loki mutters. He shuts the door hard behind him and returns to his desk, pulling out his chair with a bit more force than necessary. If Thor says anything else, Loki doesn’t hear it. He places his earbuds into his ears and turns his music on as loud as it will go, drowning out the world around him. 

* * *

Odin doesn’t call much. Occasionally, when Frigga calls, she’ll put the speaker phone on and Odin will join the conversation for awhile but, for the most part, he sends emails and the random text message. 

His emails usually come not long after a phone call from Frigga, so it’s not really a surprise when Loki’s phone buzzes with a notification the next day. He’s just leaving his English class and when the phone vibrates, for one wild second, he thinks it might be a text from Thor. 

But, that’s stupid. They can’t even hold a conversation when they’re in the same room; what the fuck would they text about? 

It’s not so much that he wants to talk to Thor, though, Loki acknowledges as he pulls out his phone. It’s just that getting a text from Thor would mean that Thor was thinking about him, and Loki craves the validation of knowing he has Thor’s attention, at least for a few minutes. 

God, he’s so pathetic. 

Odin’s email is pretty generic. It basically asks him how classes are going, whether or not he’s sleeping enough and if he’s making any friends. Loki closes the email and tucks his phone back into his pocket, making a mental note to reply later, when he’s at his computer. 

Mondays are generally pretty light for Loki, since most of his other classes meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He’s pretty much finished with classes for the day, but he does have homework to do. His English professor had dropped a pop quiz on them, too, and though Loki is pretty sure he’d done okay, it wouldn’t hurt to review some of the material so that he’d be better prepared for next time. 

Loki stops in at the small cafe on the main floor and buys a large mocha latte, which he carries with him as he heads outside. The library is across campus, and as he walks, Loki notes that autumn is definitely nearing a close. The breeze is sharper, chillier; each day, the branches grow more bare. 

Soon, it will be Halloween. The rest of the leaves will fall and all of the kaleidoscopic colors of autumn will fade into the cool gray of winter. Loki has always loved winter, with its soft hues of silver and white, but everything about winter is tinged with the memory of Thor. Most people saw winter as a slushy brown nuisance, but Loki saw winter as a time for ice skating, for snow angels, for ski trips with Odin. 

It won’t be the same this year. Loki thinks of how Thor had looked the previous day - Loki had asked him if it meant anything at all, and Thor just looked so _tired_ , so done with it. _It’s not that simple,_ he’d said, but it’s pretty fucking simple to Loki. Either Thor loves him, or he doesn’t. Either they go forward, or they stagnate, but they can never go _back._  

Thor wants Loki to forget it all happened, but even if Loki lives to be a hundred, he’ll never forget the tenderness with which Thor touched him. Loki thinks of the spark of lust in Thor’s eyes, bright blue, and the way Thor sounded when he came, his mouth pressed to Loki’s neck to muffle it. Loki can still feel Thor’s hot breath there, just below his ear. Even now, remembering it makes Loki shiver, the tiniest buzz of electricity flaring against the base of his spine.

It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t understand how he can feel something so _intensely,_ and cling to it so fiercely, while Thor wants nothing more than to just toss it away like it never happened. 

Loki’s stomach is churning. There’s a gnawing sensation under his ribs - a Thor-shaped ulcer, Loki thinks - and his head is pounding. He _has_ to stop obsessing about this. He’s literally making himself sick over it. 

When he’d seen the counselor after his sleepwalking incident, the counselor had taught him breathing exercises, along with a method of reframing his thoughts to help his anxiety. Loki draws a breath and counts backward from ten, slowly. He’s gripping his coffee cup and he forces himself to relax his fingers. 

_Just breathe._ Loki can’t do anything about Thor, so thinking about it isn’t doing him any good. He can’t worry about the future; he just needs to take it day by day. _Don’t spiral. Keep your head above water._

_Breathe_. 

* * *

They spent the next couple of days practically living in the water. Thor had to pry Loki out of bed in the mornings, but it was a necessary chore, since if they didn’t make it down to the beach by mid-morning, Loki would refuse to go, citing his allergy to the sun as an excuse. 

It wasn’t any fun going to the beach by himself, so Thor made sure to set their phone alarms for eight o’clock. That way, they were showered, dressed in their beach gear, and heading down to the shore (loaded down with their cooler, towels, ridiculously high SPF sunblock, and whatever book Loki was reading that day) by nine-thirty, before it got too hot. 

Not that Loki was _really_ allergic to the sun. Not literally, anyway. He did burn easily, though, and a sunburned Loki was even grouchier than a Loki who had been woken up too early. Thor chose the lesser of the two evils, as it were.

Thor loved the ocean. He’d always wanted to learn how to surf, but the waves weren’t big enough on Nantucket. “We should go to California,” he said, idly. It was two days into their vacation, and he and Loki were back-floating deep out into the ocean, past the cresting waves, where the water flowed smoothly. “Check out the other ocean.” 

Loki’s black hair fanned out around his face like a floating halo; his skin seemed even paler in the sun but, with the way the sun sparkled down, it somehow made him look ethereal. He looked like a mermaid. “Sure,” he agreed. “We can go tomorrow.” 

Thor splashed him a little. “I don’t mean _now._ One day, though. Don’t you want to learn to surf?” 

“Why would I?” Loki countered. “I wouldn’t be any good at it.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Loki quirked an eyebrow; the effect was kind of impressive considering that he didn’t even open his eyes. “I’m not athletic,” he pointed out. “Not like you.” 

“Yeah, but you have good balance,” Thor replied. “And you’re coordinated. You could actually be athletic if you tried.” 

“Okay, let me rephrase that. I don’t _care_ about athletics like you do.” 

“Yeah, I guess it kind of _would_ be hard to care about athletics,” Thor agreed, “what with that stick up your butt making it so hard for you to move.”

Loki snorted and lifted his foot just enough to send a spray of water back toward Thor. “Why are you so interested in the contents of my butt?” he retorted. 

“Hey, it’s not like anyone _else_ is.” Thor closed his eyes. The sun was just starting to get really warm; soon, it would be too hot for Loki. “I mean, when’s the last time you got laid?” 

Thor was careful not to look at Loki, acting as aloof as if the remark happened to slide out without thought. Out of the corner of one cracked eye, though, Thor caught the way Loki’s shoulders tensed.

“Since when do you care?” Loki asked. Thor couldn’t read his tone at all. 

“I don’t know.” Probably since he couldn’t stop thinking about Loki eating that fucking ice cream cone a few days ago, although what one had to do with the other, Thor couldn’t explain. All he knew was that he didn’t want anyone _else_ appreciating the way Loki ate ice cream, now or in the recent past. “Just wondered.” 

“Well, it’s not really any of your business.” Loki ceased his back-floating abruptly. He submerged himself under the water, remaining there for several seconds before he broke through the surface again, shoving his sopping wet hair back from his face.

Thor moved his arms in big circles, making waves. “Since when is it _not_ my business?” he retorted. “We tell each other everything.” 

“Hey, I never _asked_ you to tell me that you spent most of high school getting pegged by Jane Foster,” Loki said coolly. “You volunteered that information on your own.” 

Thor felt his face flush, which had nothing to do with the sun. “It wasn’t most of high school,” he snapped. “It was, like, three times. Jesus.” 

“Still.” 

“Besides,” Thor said, irritated now, “are you going to stand there and act like _you_ didn’t spend most of high school with Clint Barton’s dick up your butt? Speaking of the contents of said anal cavity.” 

Loki used both hands to shove an enormous splash of water Thor’s way. Thor yelped, losing his balance as most of the water hit him. “I never fucked Clint,” Loki informed him archly. He sent another splash toward Thor, but Thor dodged it this time. 

“No?” Thor half-heartedly tried to splash Loki back. “Not in all that time? I thought -” 

Loki shrugged. He trailed his hands along the surface of the water, not looking at Thor. “You assumed,” he corrected. 

Thor frowned. He felt something gnaw at the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t sure what it was - just that the sudden uneasiness made him want to flee. He settled for submerging himself, abruptly, underwater. 

There was too much he was trying to absorb at once. Loki and Clint had dated for all of their sophomore year. They’d really been in love, or so it had seemed to Thor. Personally, Thor thought Clint was a total tool, but, if Loki was happy, then Thor … was not exactly happy _for_ him, but he tolerated it. 

Still, in all that time, they’d never fucked? Thor knew Loki felt things much more deeply than most people; Loki was the type of person who would want his first time to be special, to be with someone he loved. 

Had he never loved Clint, then? Or had Loki slept with someone else later, whom he _did_ love? Or maybe Loki had never had sex at all. 

It bothered Thor, this realization. It lodged itself uncomfortably under his heart. It wasn’t so much that Loki hadn’t had sex that got to Thor - it was the fact that he’d not confided in Thor about _any_ of this. Thor had made assumptions and Loki, for whatever reason, had not corrected him. 

Since when did Loki keep secrets from Thor? 

_Why_ was he keeping secrets from Thor? 

The ocean throbbed in Thor’s ears and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sting of salt. He pushed himself further down until his fingers skimmed the sandy ocean floor. Then, Thor opened his eyes and rolled over so that he could look up at the sun. It shimmered through the blue-green surface, dancing with the water. Thor wished he could take a picture of it. 

He stayed at the bottom of the ocean until he was certain he didn’t want to talk about it anymore - or, until he couldn’t hold his breath anymore, whichever came first.

Thor surged back up again. As he broke through the surface, he flipped his hair back and grinned widely at Loki. Loki was back-floating again, appearing terribly unconcerned. 

“You were down there for, like, ten minutes,” Loki said. 

“That’s not even humanly possible,” Thor told him. “Three minutes, maybe.” 

“Whatever. I thought you died. I was going to ask Mom if I could have all your stuff.”

“My stuff is getting buried with me. I’m going to have a Viking funeral, and all my most precious belongings will be burned at sea along with my beautiful corpse.” 

“Your beautiful corpse?” Loki scoffed. 

“Yeah.” Thor grinned again. “You’ll be in charge of that. I fully expect to be made up and preserved in all of my glory, so that the people may look upon me and weep at the beauty that’s been lost. And I want you to braid flowers into my hair and make sure that I’m dressed in something regal.” 

“What are you, the king of England? _Regal._ ” Loki scoffed again. “Besides, I don’t know anything about embalming a corpse.” 

“Maybe they offer a class on it,” Thor said brightly. “We’ll take it together.” 

“How did we even start talking about this?” Loki started to laugh, shaking his head, splashing at Thor. “You’re such a total weirdo.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Thor agreed, splashing back. “You love me, though.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Loki. 

* * *

That night, it took Loki hours to fall asleep. He and Thor spent another half an hour or so in the water before retreating to the shore, lying on their towels as the sun baked them dry. By the time they went back into the house, they were sunburned and starving. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lunch and dinner, walking around downtown, fooling around in the shops, and helping Frigga make her blueberry-and-strawberry shortcake  for the Fourth of July barbecue. It would start at promptly one-fifteen the next afternoon, and Odin and Frigga always went all out, making it an entire neighborhood affair. 

Their little community on Nantucket was filled with mostly familiar faces, the same families who’d been coming to the beach every summer for as long as Loki could remember. Sometimes, there were new people; sometimes, the old families didn’t come back again, for whatever reasons. But more or less, it was the same crowd, and they would all be in Odin’s backyard come the Fourth of July. 

There was a lot to look forward to, but despite that, Loki found himself tossing and turning. Next to him, in their shared bed, Thor’s breathing had been deep and even practically since his head hit the pillow. The big oaf could sleep anywhere, no matter what. It was highly irritating. 

Loki nudged Thor’s shoulder a few times. 

He rolled over, jamming his elbow into Thor’s back. 

He tugged on Thor’s hair. 

Finally, Loki swung his heel directly into Thor’s ribs. Thor let out a little yelping sound, like a puppy whose tail had been stepped on. It was kind of adorable. 

Loki kicked him again. 

“Loki?” Thor’s voice was thick with sleep. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Loki yawned, making a show of rubbing his eyes. “Oh, did I wake you?” 

“You _kicked_ me,” Thor said. 

Loki lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced down at his foot. “Did I? Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay,” Thor grumbled. He adjusted his position, turning his pillow over. “What’re you flailing around for, anyway?”

“It’s no big deal,” Loki said. He hugged his own pillow, the satin case cool against his cheek. “You can go back to sleep.” 

Thor yawned widely, dropping his head down. For a moment, it looked like he would do just that, which annoyed Loki, but fortunately, a moment later Thor opened his eyes again. “What’s wrong, Loki?” 

“I don’t know.” Loki sighed. It sounded dramatic even to his own ears. “I can’t sleep. I feel all anxious.” 

“About what?” 

Loki shrugged. He didn’t know, exactly, but he had a feeling. The conversation they’d started at the beach that morning had been hanging over Loki’s head all day. Once he’d disappeared underwater, Thor had effectively ended it, giving no indication he wished to discuss it further. Yet it had left an unsettled feeling in the pit of Loki’s stomach. 

What was Thor not saying? 

Of course, Loki couldn’t come right out and ask. With Thor, seeds had to be planted. Thor had to think it was his own idea to talk about it. 

Loki chewed on his lip, considering. He noticed the way Thor’s eyes, still drowsy, flicked to Loki’s mouth. “What was it like,” Loki finally asked, keeping his voice low, “having sex with Jane?” 

Thor dragged his eyes back up to Loki’s, his brow furrowing a bit. “You mean, with her specifically – or just with a girl, in general?” 

Of _course_ Loki didn’t care about sex with Jane specifically. Thor could be so slow. “In general,” was all Loki said. “With a girl _or_ a guy, I guess.” 

“Shit, I don’t know.” Thor blew out a breath. His hair, tousled from sleep, was hanging limply over his forehead and Loki again had the urge to card his fingers through it. Thor had no goddamn idea how beautiful he was, did he? He looked like some kind of marble statue, shining in the moonlight that spilled in through the window. 

While Loki waited, Thor rolled onto his back. He clasped his hands together and rested his knuckles against his forehead, elbows out. The motion pulled his white t-shirt up enough for Loki to glimpse a bit of Thor’s sunburned belly. Loki wondered what Thor would do if Loki reached out and skimmed his fingertips across the exposed skin. 

“Nice,” Thor finally said, bringing Loki’s attention back to the conversation. 

Loki scoffed. “Nice? That’s it?” 

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Thor exhaled. “Jane’s …. she’s so fucking hot, you know, and her skin’s so soft, and her _hair_ …” 

“I get it,” Loki said, annoyed. There was a lump at the back of his throat that grew tighter with each descriptor, although it wasn’t exactly surprising to hear. Thor and Jane had dated pretty much all of senior year and for all that time, Thor had been head over heels for her. 

It was kind of a shame. Jane was a nice person. If she hadn’t been dating his brother, Loki wouldn’t have hated her so much. 

They’d broken up just before senior prom. Thor didn’t really say much about it, just that they’d “grown apart,” whatever that meant. Loki hadn’t really pressed for the details. He’d been too relieved to see the relationship end and he was afraid that if he and Thor talked it out, Thor would talk himself right into getting back together with her. 

Easier, then, to keep his thoughts to himself. To offer Thor a shoulder to lean on and a few sympathetic comments while Thor moped around for a few weeks. Maybe Loki should have felt guilty about not doing more - but, Thor had bounced back quickly enough. 

“I don’t think you do get it,” said Thor. He sighed again. “It was more than just the hair, and the skin, and even the sex itself. The whole thing’s kind of confusing as fuck, actually.” 

That was surprising. “How do you mean?” 

Thor didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then: “Remember when we rode that ferris wheel at the fair last year? The one with the rickety seats?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It was fantastic. I remember that our seat stopped at the very top - remember how we started swinging it back and forth? It was exhilarating. We were on top of the entire _world_ , and it was such a rush because you convince yourself that you could fall at any moment, if you only tip yourself over far enough. You know you’re locked in, and you’re never in any _real_ danger, but your mind convinces you it’s real. Sex with Jane felt like that.” 

Loki rolled onto his back, chewing on his bottom lip again. He thought about the rickety ferris wheel seats, how Thor had been fearless at the top of the world but Loki, next to him, had been clutching onto the bar over their laps for dear life. 

But he’d laughed right along with Thor, feeling the rush of wind on his face. Even completely terrified, he’d pretended to be having the time of his life and, even now, he couldn’t have said why. 

Thor was waxing poetic about the rush of fear, but what Loki remembered most was how relieved he was when the ferris wheel started moving again and they began their descent back to earth. Later, when they’d climbed off the ride, his fingers were completely stiff and cramped from having been holding on so tightly. 

It was funny, how both of them could have the exact same experience and yet remember it so differently. 

Furthermore, Loki had no fucking idea what it had to do with sex. 

“I don’t get it,” he admitted. He glanced over, just to make sure that Thor hadn’t fallen asleep again, but Thor was simply gazing back at him. His blue eyes were luminous in the dark and, for a moment, Loki completely forgot what he wanted to say. 

“What?” Thor prompted. 

Loki cleared his throat and shook his head. “What the ferris wheel has to do with sex. Are you saying you felt like it was scary? Or it was a rush?” 

“No.” Thor propped his head up on one hand. “I’m saying that, when you’re in the middle of something intense, it feels so amazing and wonderful that your mind forgets it’s not real. It’s only later, looking back, that you realize it was an illusion.”

“Sex was an illusion,” Loki said doubtfully. 

“No, love was an illusion. I thought I was in love with Jane, and the sex with her was amazing because it felt like we connected emotionally … but, later, I realized I was caught up in the adrenaline of it all.” 

“Is that why you broke up?”

“I felt guilty,” Thor confessed. “Like I was lying to her. If I only loved her when I was having sex with her, then I didn’t really love her at all, right? And it wasn’t fair to her to keep dating her, knowing that I didn’t feel what she felt.” 

“Most guys wouldn’t care,” Loki pointed out. “Especially if they were getting laid.” 

“Most guys are trash,” Thor responded, the corners of his lips quirking in a quick smile. “Which sucks, because some of them can be so fucking hot. It isn’t fair.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Loki grabbed one of the extra pillows on the bed and swung it directly into Thor’s head. Thor yelped. “Like _you’re_ not so fucking hot that it’s unfair.” 

Thor laughed. “But I’m not trash, though.” 

“Yeah, you are. You’re a fucking dumpster fire.” Loki swung the pillow again, but this time Thor grabbed it before it could make contact. They struggled with it for a few moments, each of them tugging and shoving, before they gave up at the same time, as if in some unspoken agreement. 

The scuffle had brought them closer to one another, and Loki didn’t bother moving back to his side of the bed. Instead, he rolled close enough so that he was tucked in right beside Thor, the sides of their bodies pressed together. Loki’s heartbeat sped up and he was certain he heard Thor’s breath hitch. 

“You really think I’m hot?” Thor asked, after a few silent beats had passed. 

“Don’t do that,” Loki said. 

“Don’t do what?” 

“Make me say it twice.” 

There was a pause, and then Thor nudged Loki. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.” 

Loki rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. Thor was the better-looking of the two, and everyone knew it. It used to bother Loki. It didn’t anymore. 

Thor’s t-shirt was still a little crooked. Loki hesitated, and then dared to reach out, skimming his fingertips along the exposed length of skin along Thor’s waist, just as he’d fantasized earlier. Thor’s skin was just as smooth as it looked, but as Loki’s fingers trailed along, he could feel the goosebumps break out and that made him look up to check Thor’s expression. 

“What are you doing?” Thor asked. His face was entirely unreadable. 

Loki withdrew his fingers. “I don’t know,” he admitted. 

They gazed at one another. Loki didn’t want to be the one to look away first. Something passed between them then, in that moment. An acknowledgement of what they’d been dancing around for a few days, an acceptance of something that had always been deep beneath the surface between them. 

It had been buried since before they were even old enough to understand what it _was_ , and yet even though they’d never spoken of it, they were both aware of its existence, both careful not to go digging it up. 

Loki felt like they’d just taken a shovel and broken the ground, and now they had no choice but to keep digging to see exactly what they were trying to uncover. And so he did the only thing he could think to do: he pushed himself up on his elbows, moved into Thor’s space, and pressed his lips to Thor’s. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that the updates are coming so slow. My life is a little all over the place right now. Thank you for reading if you're still with me! Next chapter will pick up exactly where this one left off, so it should be along fairly quickly. Please leave me comments, if you are so inclined. Not unlike chocolate, they boost my seratonin enough to keep me going another day. <3 <3 <3 Also, feel free to visit me on tumblr at [@iamanartichoke](https://iamanartichoke.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
